


I'll write a ballad of us yet

by bards_witcher



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Geraskier, M/M, Slow Burn, Soulmate AU, also chances are people will be ooc but oh well, explicit rating will happen later, no beta but that's obvious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:09:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 67,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22945312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bards_witcher/pseuds/bards_witcher
Summary: Witchers can't have soulmates, everybody knows that. So what's to happen when a small lark chooses to accompany Geralt of Rivea along the Path.**Soulmate AU where everyone at some point gets a spirit animal that reflects their soulmate,
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 218
Kudos: 1390





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing anything Witcher based and I only really have the show and the third game to go on so please don't hate me.  
> Basically got inspired by geraskier week so now you get this garbage.

It had been an ordinary day when he was traveling between one no-name town and the other when a small lark settled on his shoulder. Even with his instincts, the small bird had surprised him at first, causing him to startle and make Roach stop in her tracks. It was only after another minute, when it was clear the small bird refused to move from where it was perched on his shoulder that he let out a small grunt and had Roach start walking again, all the while he fished through a small bag at his side for a couple of berries which he promptly offered to the bird.

He chuckled a little at the way the small bird, a lark he noted, all but snatched the food out of his hand and he promptly reached back into the bag to retrieve a few more, enjoying the strange company more than he had thought he would.

That was until it started chirping. Right next to his ear.

The first minute was tolerable, the second had him looking sideways at the bird in the hopes his gaze would be enough for it stop, it wasn’t. The third became hell and he tried offering more food in an effort for it to be quiet, but the bird simply ate what it was given before starting up again.

His patience was quick to wear thin and although he felt somewhat happy that the bird had chosen him, someone who people refused to even look in the eye, and perch on his shoulder, the incessant sound in his ear was driving him to madness. Finally, he snapped and with a free hand swatted at his shoulder in an effort to shoo the bird away, hoping it would go and annoy someone else, and whilst it flew away to avoid his hand, it quickly returned to its original position. A couple more swats yielded the same result and it was with a grunt that he accepted his fate and tried to phase out the sound as much as possible, hoping that the bird would find someone else to entertain sooner rather than later.

**********

As night rolled in a few hours later, the bird had yet to leave his side. He felt like the life had slowly drained out of him with each passing minute that bird insisted on singing some song that only it was interested in, and yet no matter what he’d done the bird refused to leave him.

He swiftly got off of Roach as he ventured away from the main road to settle in for the night, tying the horse to a tree as he went hunting for that night’s dinner, made a lot harder as the lark refused to leave his shoulder and the constant noise that threw him a little off-kilter. Even so, he managed to catch a small rabbit, enough for dinner and maybe breakfast if he’s careful, before he made his way back to his makeshift camp, all the while swearing under his breath at the constant chatter from the bird that was all but driving him insane.

The trek back had him picking up random sticks for the fire he planned to start, and it was during this time that the bird finally left his shoulder. He thanked every god that was out there as he lost sight of the lark, taking a moment to enjoy the blessed silence that surrounded him before he continued, however, he’d only taken a couple of steps before the bird returned. 

He could only let out another curse as he saw it settle on his outstretched arm that was currently holding the stash of firewood, but in the dying light around them he was somewhat stunned as he saw the bird drop a small twig onto the pile, letting out a couple more chirps before it was off again. He stared after it until even his enhanced vision couldn’t spot it anymore and yet again it returned, another twig in its mouth that it promptly gave to him before flying off again.

The whole scenario was making him wonder if he had actually lost his mind, unsure of what to make of the whole thing, maybe it was some sort of mage’s trick? But he was brought out of that thought with the larks return, another twig in its mouth, only this time instead of flying off it seemed to know he was having some sort of crisis and pecked at his hand in an attempt to get his attention.

The small stab of pain startled him so that he almost dropped the collected wood, only offering a small curse to the lark before he once again made his way back to the small clearing he had left Roach, still picking up the larger bits of wood whilst his new companion made its own contribution.

He didn’t know if he was in some sort of shock, or maybe the small bird was starting to grow on him, but the incessant birdsong he heard for the rest of the night was nowhere near as grating as it had been during the day. Likely because the lark had settled on his knee and not next to his ear, but all the same he still offered up the last of the berries that he had, giving a small smile to his new companion before he put out the fire and settled into his bed roll.

He had expected the bird to maybe fly up into the trees to make its bed for the night, instead he let out a small grunt in surprise when he felt the bird settle on his chest, dare he say nuzzle against his neck and offer up a final short song as if to say goodnight before silence settled around him. Against his better judgement he decided not to question the situation anymore before he finally settled down to sleep, strangely comforted by the small weight resting on him.

**********

The next few days followed the same routine, and whilst the bird’s song never seemed to falter, he was getting somewhat adept at blocking the sound out, even when the lark would poke at his shoulder or neck in an effort to get his attention as if the bird was telling him some sage old wisdom.

Eventually, he reached another small town, easily finding the small inn and all the while ignoring the stares people gave him in the street, being a witcher he was more than used to them by now, hell he’s just glad he hadn’t already been run out of the town, yet. However, this time their stares felt off, the feeling settled uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach, their judgement likely not helped by the small lark on his shoulder that still sung its heart out all the same, unaffected by the people around them.

He promptly handed Roach off to the stable hand, only receiving a side eye from the boy in response, and a similar look from the boy’s spirit animal, a dog he assumed, but the thing looked more like a large rat to him. Regardless, he didn’t pay much mind to it, only offering his own piercing stare in response that he could tell unsettled the boy before he turned to towards the inn.

He had half expected the lark to stay with Roach, surely the quiet outside would be miles better than whatever drunken hell awaited them inside, but still the bird remained, the fact brought a small smirk to his lips, why he didn't know, but he quickly composed himself, he had a reputation to keep after all, and sure enough, he hadn’t even made it a step through the door before half the patrons had turned to stare at him.

Passing through the room he could see the mixture of curiosity and hatred across the other people’s faces, their spirit animals anywhere from a bug on the arm to a rabbit, hell even a goat, either cowering at the sight of him or taking a more defensive approach. He’s sure it was only the fact that he had a sword on his back that prevented any of them making a move against him, needless to say, the air of the inn was thick with tension as he strode towards the bar. The men nursing their beers at the bar as they regaled stories to one another easily made room for him as he stared down at the barmaid, somewhat surprised at the snake around her neck, although he supposed it was helpful for unruly nights.

“I need a room and my horse needs looking after” There was a beat of silence then, and it wasn’t hard to pick up on the slight scent of fear coming off the people closest to him, but the barmaid simply stared at him for a moment before turning away and instead took the drinks order of the people on the other end of the bar.

The fact made him grit his teeth a little, unable to stop his strained sigh as he waited for the woman to finish whatever the hell she was doing, however, the bird on his shoulder seemed to sense his growing anger and offered only a small chirp before trying to nuzzle closer to him. The action calmed him a little and he slowly let out the breath he was holding as the barmaid once again came up to him.

“I said I need a room for the night and space for my horse” The woman simply turned to him with a displeased expression on her face, the snake on her neck staring at him just as harshly.

“I ‘eard you the first time Witcher, y’er mother never teach you any manners” The comment had him grit his teeth again, barely holding back his tongue as he took a breath to calm himself “Ah wait, y’er mother can’t have cared enough if she gave you away to the witcher bastards”

The statement earned a round of laughs from the people around him, all the while he had to use every ounce of his self-control to not offer up a reaction that would justify the treatment his kind got no matter where they went. Once again though he felt the small lark on his shoulder nuzzle closer to him, making its way through his curtain of hair to be able to rub against his neck in a gesture of comfort.

It was then he heard a key being dropped unceremoniously in front of him and he picked it up with all but a snarl, he chucked a handful of coins onto the bar in lieu of payment, but he didn’t even get to turn before a vice-like grip wrapped around his wrist and he looked to see that the barmaids snake had wrapped its tail around him.

For any other person he wouldn’t be surprised if the snake could break the bone, but for him it was more of an annoyance quickly easing into discomfort as he aimed a murderous stare at the barmaid who had a smug look on her face.

“Ain’t you forgetting something Witcher”

Through gritted teeth he snarled out the words “thank you” before another minute passed between them, for a moment he felt the snake’s grip get tighter and he let out a pained groan, only before he could retaliate the lark on his shoulder moved down onto his arm and began incessantly pecking at the snake’s tail.

The scene was almost comedic, but the lark must have done something right with the way the snake suddenly recoiled away from him with a hiss. Only when he looked up he saw dark, beady eyes staring hungrily at the small bird, the lark unaware to the danger as it looked up at him and chirped happily as if awaiting praise for ‘saving’ him. He knew what was about to happen and sure enough, as soon as the snake went to strike, lightening quick he reached out with his left hand and caught the animal before it could reach the small bird on his arm, the action earning small gasps from everyone around him.

It was some sort of taboo that no one was to touch another person’s spirit animal unless you were said persons soulmate, at least that’s what he’d been told, although experience had taught him that rule almost exclusively applied to witchers. Regardless he now held the snake in his own vice-like grip until he saw the barmaid start to grow panicked, at which he finally dropped the animal before turning to head to whatever room he’d been given, feeling the stares of everyone behind him whilst the lark, which had since returned to his shoulder, sung happily in his ear.

He cursed from the high heavens to the lowest pits of hell that there ever existed soulmates and spirit animals as he journeyed to his room, and only once the door was shut behind him did he finally lose some of the tension which had only built up in his body since he had first stepped into this town. With a sigh he rubbed at the wrist the snake had grabbed, no damage had been done, but it still ached a little too much for his liking, but his thoughts were drawn back to the lark who now returned to stand on his arm, giving him a pointed look as he chirped.

The sight brought a small smile to his face as he reached out a finger to stroke the birds feathers, smiling a little more at the way the bird preened at the touch “Yeah I know, you were great out there little lark” with that he removed his hand from the small bird to instead fish through the pockets of his trousers until he retrieved a few berries he’d picked earlier that morning and offered it to the lark “You need to be more careful next time, I won’t always be around to stop rogue snakes”

The bird didn’t pay much mind to what he said as it happily ate the rest of the berries offered to it before starting up another song, the fact getting a small smile and a roll of the eyes from him before he lifted his arm and the bird once again returned to his shoulder.

He didn’t want to admit it, but although the lark’s singing was definitely annoying and pushed his patience to the limit at even the best of times, he’d somewhat gotten used to the sound and it felt odd when there was nothing but quiet around him. Nevertheless, he let out a sigh as he gathered his bag and his swords and moved to settle onto the bed, intent to spend the next couple of hours unpacking and repacking his stuff and make sure his swords were both clean and oiled, sure that tonight would be spent sleeping with one eye open.

**********

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he heard a timid knock on his door, almost as if the person was scared if he were to actually answer, so it’s unsurprising when he caught the scent of the man’s fear already through the door, letting out a sigh before he stood up to greet his guest.

It’s not that he’s worried about what’s on the other side of the door, but he pulled out his small dagger anyway, better to be safe than sorry, and sure enough, when he opened the door he was met with the sight of a short, stout man who looked paralyzed in fear, his own animal, a mouse, cowering under his shirt sleeve.

He gave a pointed stare to the man, waiting for whatever request he had because it was clear the man wanted to be anywhere else but near him, but when no answer was forthcoming he let out a sigh before he spoke, trying not to let his impatience show through.

“What do you need? It’s clear you’re not here for the pleasure of my company” the man lets out what he thinks is meant to be a laugh, but it comes out as more of whimper and it took every effort not to roll his eyes and shut the door in his face.

“No master witcher, we got a problem and thought you could help”

“Let me guess, a monster needs killing” It’s at times like this he questioned why he ever ventured into towns when it was clear that the people either hated him and/or feared him and he was stuck having wasted conversations like this.

“Yes sir, down by the cemetery, ‘bout a mile east from ‘ere. Every passin’ of the moon we find graves disturbed and the bodies eaten, most of the locals are too afraid to leave their houses ever since a young girl vanished a couple ‘o days ago now”

“Hmm, probably ghouls running out of dead to eat”

“Will you help us, some of us are scared out our wits-“ He quickly stopped the other man, not wanting to hear his big heroic speech about how scared they were and desperately needed his help when in any normal situation they would be much happier to kick him to the road. 

“I’ll help, how much?” The way the man looked down at his feet, almost as if he was ashamed told him that this wouldn’t be much, but coin was coin, and it was starting to stretch thin.

In the next moment the man pulled out a bag of coin and handed it to him, “150 crowns, all we could afford, please help us, we’re desperate”

He stared at the bag for a moment, he already knew he’d be doing the job no matter how much he would be getting paid, maybe it’ll even get him in the locals good graces, the thought almost enough to warrant a snort of laughter before he handed the coin back to the man “You can pay me once the ghouls are dead”

The relief that washed over the other man was palpable and he was quick to give his thanks, but he offered nothing more than a grunt before he promptly shut the door to his room and went to don the armor he’d previously laid across the small dressing table. It was when he went to reach for his silver that the lark, who had been previously nestled on his bag, went to perch on the hilt of his sword, stopping him from grabbing it while giving him a curious look.

“You can’t come with me this time” He sure he’s going crazy when the bird just tilts its head at him and gives a couple of answering chirps, stranger yet he answers “It’s too dangerous” that only seems to rile the bird up, its chirps almost arguing with him, and he’s sure that at any other time he’d laugh at how absurd the situation was “I’m a witcher, my life is too dangerous for you to follow me around everywhere”

Unsurprisingly the lark is clearly unimpressed with his answer and gives another series of chirps before taking up its place on his shoulder, all he could do was let out a sigh, after the last few days he knew trying to get the lark to listen to him was a lost battle “Fine you can come, but when the fight starts you leave, alright?”

A small chirp is all he gets, and he just hoped that this bird had at least some sense of preservation, hanging around with a witcher of all things wasn’t exactly the safest environment. Finally, he picked up his silver as well as pocketing a couple of potions before he made his way out, the lark on his shoulder already starting a song for their short journey ahead.

*********

The trek was short to the cemetery, unsurprising and a bit annoyingly the lark had sung the whole way despite his insistence for it to keep quiet, admittedly the ghouls were unlikely to startle at the sound of a bird but it wouldn’t hurt for a bit of quiet so that he could at least evaluate the threat ahead of him properly.

The smell of decay was apparent before he caught sight of the cemetery, quickly downing the potions he’d brought, one so that he could actually see what was happening now that night had fallen and the other for reflexes just to give him an edge, he didn’t know how many he’d be fighting but he knew it would be a fair few if they’d already made their way through the cemetery.

It wasn’t long before he noticed them, but before he made a move he stared at the lark on his shoulder, the bird having gone silent now with the threat of danger and it only took a simple look from him for it to abandon it’s post on his shoulder and make its way into the nearby branches. He couldn’t explain the small sense of relief at knowing the bird was now out of harm’s way, but he dared not to dwell on it too much, he had a job to do after all.

He slowly paced his way closer to the group, waiting for the last possible moment to attack and sure enough as soon as he struck the first one down, it’s shriek quickly alerted the others and he soon found himself surrounded. As was typical with most fights he simply let his mind take over, instinct ingrained into him from all those years at Kaer Morhen taking over and he soon found himself swiftly cutting through the lot of them.

So focused on his task that he didn’t notice the alghoul that came out of the shadow, it was only when he was casting igni on the last of the ghouls that he heard it behind him, barely able to turn in time to lift his sword and stop its strike, but even still it knocked him back a few paces.

He hacked and spun and hacked again, almost as if it was a strange dance he was performing and whilst he could tell he was wearing down the monster, he was starting to tire also, his movements just that bit slower. It didn’t take much, a step back to avoid being hit with gruesome claws caused him to trip over a root and his sword to leave his hand, the alghoul quickly taking advantage and getting atop him, unable to reach for the silver as he held the creature back.

It was after some struggle that he found his strength begin to wane, both claw and mouth getting closer to him, so focused on just staying alive that he just barely caught a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. For a moment he thought it was another ghoul and that he was well and truly fucked, but he got his answer when a bird, his bird, his lark begin to claw and flap its wings in the alghouls face, the action was enough to distract the monster as it released a hand off of him to swat the bird away.

He felt a small spike of worry when he saw the bird hit the forest floor, but it was only momentary before he used the advantage to get his feet up and kick the monster up off of him and quickly roll out from under it, grabbing his silver all the while before bringing it down on its head, taking several extra strokes just to be sure it was well and truly dead. It was only then that all fight left him, and he promptly collapsed onto his knees as he took in a couple of deep lungfuls of air, and it was then, under the moonlight that barely filtered through the trees that he saw the lark, his lark in a small heap on the floor.

Despite his mind telling him that he definitely shouldn’t be feeling sorry for the small bird, it had done nothing but annoy him incessantly and get in harm's way, and yet the deeper part of his mind reminded him that same bird had saved his life. It was quick work crawling to the lark which he then lifted up to better examine it, and whilst it looked like a wing might be broken, it was definitely breathing, a fact that caused a wave of relief to wash through him.

If only the people could see him now, the emotionless mutant they claimed him to be on his knees hoping, no wishing, that some stray bird hadn’t died helping him. Regardless he didn’t know the damage done to the small lark and even still he couldn’t leave it alone in the woods, so instead he gently curled his hand around it and held it close to his chest as he started his journey back to the town, wanting nothing more than a hot bath and a pint of ale.

**********

The walk back to the inn was short, and along the way the lark had awoken, he had stopped for a moment to look it over properly and by the way it held a wing particularly close to its side he figured the bird would be out of commission for a little bit. Even still he offered a gruff thank you and a couple of brushes of his fingers to the bird who seemed to enjoy the attention, who despite the circumstances was still able to sing, and he swore he’d never heard a more beautiful sound as they continued on their journey.

Similar to when he first arrived, life in the inn stopped once he entered and he’s sure he made quite the sight, covered in a mix of blood and mud with a small bird nestled in his hand. He’s quick to spot out the man who had hired him, looking decidedly less afraid of him despite his appearance, probably due to the other people around him and the drink in his hand.

“The Witcher returns, you do the job?” He stared at the man for a moment, did people think he chose to look like this for the fun of it? Nevertheless, he reached into his bag and pulled out the alghoul head before tossing it to his feet, not caring for the gasps and the sound of retching around him.

The man gave a small nod before once again bringing out the bag of coin that was promised and threw it to him, easily catching it with his free hand before walking towards the bar, hoping that this would involve a lot less drama than earlier.

The same barmaid from before glared heatedly at him, her snake not looking too pleased to see him either but in that moment he couldn’t care less “I need a bath run and a beer” He stopped for a moment as he fished for some coin, paying no attention to the whispers he could hear the people tell about him as he dropped the coins onto the bar, giving his best smirk as added “please”

He wasn’t given much of a response, he just had a tankard dropped in front of him with the faint mumblings that the bath will be ready in a few minutes, giving a simple nod at the news as he moved to stand in a relatively secluded corner of the bar. 

It was only when he started to relax a little, the adrenaline of the nights activities finally wearing off that he felt the small lark get restless in his hand, only offering a small frown at the animal who insisted on constantly moving within his hold, and when that didn’t work, started to mae a lot of high pitched chirps which had the people closest to him turn their heads to glare.

With a sigh he lifted his hand, the bird quickly taking its place on his shoulder where it became a bit more subdued. With a hand now free he reached into his pocket to grab the remaining berries, all made squashed and messy after the fight, but the lark didn’t seem to mind as it ate them eagerly before moving along his shoulder to settle against his neck. He was still getting used to the small, soft, warmth of the bird that was particularly fond of cuddling close to his neck, but it was still comforting to him all the same so that he too began to relax a little more.

It was only when he’d finished his beer, the dried blood on his skin itching to be cleaned off that he began to make his way through the inn and towards his room, taking extra care as he did so as not to disturb the small bird. He could almost feel the hot water that would ease the ache that had settled in his body, at least until he felt a hand on his sleeve stopping his movement, and it took all of his effort to bite back his instinct and strike at the offending limb, simply letting out a snarl as he turned to whoever had grabbed him.

It was a young boy, couldn’t be more than 20 and who looked like he’d had far too much to drink if the high flush on his cheeks and his glassy gaze was anything to go, but given by the way the other boys around him were barely containing their amusement he figured the boy had drawn the short straw for getting his attention.

“You a witcher, yeah?” this time he couldn’t keep back his eye roll and the scowl on his face, he was still covered in blood and visceral, hell from the way people cleared a path with muttered curses aimed at him it was obvious, and yet people still asked him the same stupid question.

He just let out a grunt, not wanting to drag the interaction longer than necessary, but from the way he saw a few of them eye the bird curled on his shoulder sleeping, he moved his body to a slightly more defensive pose, not willing to risk anything more happening to the small lark tonight.

“What’s with the bird? Thought witchers didn’t have soulmates” the words stirred something inside of him and he only paid it any mind for all of a second before he dismissed it and gave another obvious glare at the boys in front of him.

“We don’t” 

“That bird on your shoulder disagrees with you”

He offered a small glance to his side to see the small bird staring at the scene curiously, before somehow edging even closer against his skin and offering a couple of small muffled sounds before going back to its rest.

“The bird refuses to leave me, no matter how many times I try and swat it away” The couple of sniggers he heard around the table did little to ease him, neither did the fact that it was becoming evident at the audience he was gathering around them.

“So like how my cat refuses to leave me, guess destiny took pity on you”

He could barely contain the snarl in his voice as he spoke, eager to end the whole affair and get to his now cold bath “Witchers don’t have soulmates, maybe if you picked up a book and stopped living in fairy tales you would know that”

Silence resounded throughout the air, the tension palpable and he offered nothing more than a grimace before he turned to head back to his room, however, the boy clearly wasn’t done with him given the shout that broke through the quiet “You sure you’re even a witcher then? Or are you just a different kind of mutant”

The comment had him clench his jaw in an effort to stay his tongue, but all the same he turned back to the boy and slowly stalked closer towards him, never taking his eyes off of him as the boy slowly cowered under his murderous gaze until he could almost taste the fear that came off of him in waves.

Before he could say anything else he suddenly found himself being pushed away by the barmaid, a scowl on her face that was mirrored on her snakes, and he felt the room take a collective breath at the fact, which only served to put him more on edge.

“I won’t have any trouble in ‘ere cause of you witcher, you either go up to your room or you leave” He gave a final stare to the boy and then to the barmaid before he turned back around with a scowl and silently made his way back up the staircase to his room, and it was only when he closed the door with a loud thud did he hear the people return to their normal chatter downstairs.

With a deep sigh he reached up a hand to pry the bird off of his shoulder, the lark paying him no mind as he gently laid it down on his pillow before staring at it for another moment. It was definitely strange that a bird would so willingly make itself his companion, let alone risk its life for him and he wasn’t sure what to make of it all.

On the outside, to people stupid enough to believe in soulmates, the small bird may look like a spirit animal, but he knew better. After they’d taken the trials they’d settled their fate to being alone aside from the odd horse, or the rare occasion they bumped into another witcher, but fate would have to be some cold heartless bitch if it allowed anyone to be soulmates with a witcher.

Someone to warm his bed for the night was different, a fleeting moment of comfort when the need arose and nothing more, but the last thing he needed was someone who needed him. His life was too unpredictable, an outcast in society who was only tolerated provided he could do something for them, never settling down anywhere and where one night could very easily be his last.

Maybe once when he was young and a lot more foolish he may have believed, maybe even wanted a soulmate but with age came wisdom and uncountable scars across his body that only furthered his point. Witchers don’t and shouldn’t have soulmates and it was something he’d made peace with a long time ago. Yet even as he began to take off his armor to begin the arduous process of cleaning not only it but himself, he couldn’t take his gaze off of the small bird dozing comfortably on the pillow in front of him, and the smallest voice at the back of his head saying what if.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what's it like with a wolf by your side?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank everyone for all their nice comments on the last chapter and I hope you enjoy this one too.

To say he liked attention was perhaps an understatement, but it’s not like he had much say in the matter given he had a wolf as his spirit animal.

No matter where he went, his white wolf trotted closely beside him, always cautious and alert to what was happening around him, and whilst at times it could be annoying, especially when he would try to engage and charm a crowd into giving him their coin, he couldn’t help but be pleased at the prospect of such a protective soulmate.

Whilst he had no qualms about the animal at his side, everyone else would always give him a wide berth and offer nothing but cautious stares and various mutterings of witcher and cursed, but he paid them no mind. It was common knowledge that witchers didn’t have soulmates and he found that fact tug painfully at his chest, it was hard enough being shunned by everyone around them but it was even worse how they never had someone for their own, someone on their side. 

On more than one occasion he had attempted to write a song about the real tragedy of being a witcher, about lonely nights without knowing the true feeling of love and being loved until they eventually met their end, but every time he finished it he would always shove it into some unknown corner of his bag or a drawer, knowing he would not be praised by the people for such a song.

People were simply too stuck in their ways, refusing to believe anything but what had been passed down to them as a way to justify how they treated witchers, a view he hoped to challenge through his music one day.

Regardless, he took the warnings about his wolf, and evidently his soulmate, on the chin, paying no mind to the sad eyes some people would give him as if his life had somehow been ruined. At those times he couldn’t care less what others thought, sure it was unheard of for someone’s spirit animal to embody one of the witcher schools, no matter how far he had dug into library archives.

Even so, it was more likely his soulmate had a wolf-like attitude? The possessiveness for one and it’s seemingly sixth sense for smelling out danger as another, at least it made more sense than the impossible outcome of a witcher soulmate.

He often found that’s where his thoughts strayed as he traveled between towns, lute in hand as he tested out new lyrics, typically for a ballad he intended to serenade his soulmate with one day, but given the way his wolf would always shudder a little and bare just the slightest hint of teeth when he played, he was starting to think it wasn’t such a good idea. Then again he was a bard, singing was his job, his passion and he would make his soulmate sit through song after song if he had to until he finally got some form of praise, or if he was silenced by other, more interesting means, either one was good by him.

It was just after he had started up another song, ambling slowly along the main road as was typical, ignoring the side glances from his wolf who he knew would rather be going at a much faster pace than this, but still it remained by his side as a guardian of sorts. However, it took him a few steps to realize the wolf was no longer by side, instead it was stood still, piercing yellow eyes staring ahead at something he couldn’t see whilst it sniffed the air around them.

He had seen this reaction before, and sure enough, when the wolf veered off of the main road in favor of heading deeper into the woodland around them he quickly followed without a complaint, experience meant that he trusted his wolf implicitly and it was clear some sort of danger was afoot.

As he walked he strapped his lute onto his back, careful not to slip on the uneven ground as he tried to follow after the wolf, luckily for him it would periodically turn to allow him to catch up before moving on. It was at times like this he felt this was some sort of ploy by the wolf to get them to travel faster, in fact, he was just about to make such a comment when he stepped on some loose stones, his foot sliding away from him so that he had no choice but to stumble and fall unceremoniously to the floor with a shout.

Although he was hoping his wolf would be somewhat considerate, when he looked up the animal was a fair distance away simply staring as it waited for him to get back onto his feet and start walking again “You know you could be a bit more considerate, I could’ve been hurt” He’s glad that spirit animals don’t talk cause he’s sure his would do nothing but sigh in exasperation at his actions.

Despite that, a second later his wolf was at his side, a wet nose prodding at various parts of him as if it was checking he was alright, more for show than actual concern and when he went to complain at his silent companion he couldn’t help but note that the wolf looked bored, annoyed if anything at the unexpected delay he was making.

“Easy for you to say, I’m not wearing the right shoes to be traipsing through the forest and now look, my silks have been ruined no thanks to you” The wolf simply stared at him, letting out a small huff which could only be called a sigh, maybe even a huffed laugh, before it started pawing at his leg and only serving to get more mud onto his clothes in a way of trying to insist that they start moving again.

“You really need to start thinking of others more, I just bought these clothes and now they’re ruined” The wolf just stared at him and he’s sure that if it was able to that it would roll its eyes at him, instead it just turned and began walking away, clearly expecting him to start following along behind. “Let's hope my soulmate is more considerate shall we, me and my clothes aren’t meant for wondering in the wilderness” 

He’s sure he could hear another huffed sound from the wolf, giving a final glare at the animal that had no real bite to it before he stood up and quickly brushed his clothes in an effort to get some of the dirt off before he followed behind. A new song about his white wolf already forming in his head.

********

The sun was just starting to set when they stepped out of the forest and he aimed a pointed gaze at the wolf who waited for him at the edge of the town they just happened to stumble upon. Following the main road he’d estimated that they would have to camp somewhere for the night, but following a path through the forest they’d made it in a day, the wolf definitely had its own agenda.

He was letting his thoughts be known to the wolf that in the future they stick to the set path for the sake of his feet, which now ached from having to carefully tread uneven ground, and for his clothes which looked more than a little worse for wear.

Of course his animal paid no mind to him, instead, it opted to glare at any passer-by as they slowly walked through the town in search of an inn to rest their heads for the night, but the glares they offered him, well more so his wolf, unsettled him, and he found himself digging a hand into soft white fur in an effort to comfort himself.

His wolf had taken to pressing even closer against his legs at the touch, and whilst he appreciated the gesture it became hard not to trip over the large animal with each step, something he felt the wolf was trying to do to not only annoy him but distract from the hateful glares.

As was typical, when he stepped into the small inn, the people closest to the door turned to look at him, most likely to assess the wolf as high as his waist at his side than the complete disarray his clothes had become, and yet he couldn’t help but step a little in front of the animal as if to shield it from the looks.

Slowly he made his way to the bar at which point mostly everyone was staring at him, but he paid no mind to it as he caught the attention of the closest barmaid, a little discomforted by the snake coiled around her neck. “Lovely evening isn’t it, the full moon definitely adds an air of intrigue wouldn’t you say?”

“Last full moon we had a girl snatched off the street by monsters” He felt a small shiver travel through him at the fact, already debating about whether it may be better for him to just keep walking to the next town.

“Sorry to hear that, sounds like you need a witcher” he gave an awkward chuckle at the fact, people didn’t usually take too well at the mention of them and sure enough any remaining conversation in the bar came to stop as everyone looked on at the exchange between the two of them.

“Had one pass through here a couple ‘o weeks ago, nothing but trouble that one. Word of advice, never trust the bastards” He simply let out a hum, he knew the more likely truth was that the witcher was not welcomed here, but he wasn’t about to let that be known.

“Well monster troubles over I’d like a room for the night please and some food and ale if you have any spare” He offered her his biggest smile, mustering up all the charm he could, but the woman stared unaffected before she peered a little over the bar to stare at his wolf which was sat beside him, staring out at the rest of the inn.

“I hope that one ain’t gonna cause any problems, we’ve had enough of wolves in this town” He chose not to think about how she said wolves, plural, or to bite back with a comment which would likely end up in an argument that resulted in him being kicked out. He’d seen rodents chew at furniture and small animals all but trash rooms and yet the question of discipline was only brought up with him.

He offered a weak smile that all but highlighted his annoyance at the question, unable to stop his own remark “As long as no one tries to cause any trouble he’ll be good, quite protective this one” he saw the woman stare at the wolf a moment longer and the animal, as if sensing her scrutiny, turned to look at her.

At the sight of his eyes he heard the woman’s breath hitch, almost as if she’d seen them before, unlikely given he’d never been in the town before, unless? The thought that his soulmate had been here was a tempting one, but one he’d long ago taught himself not to focus on too much.

He was taken out of his thoughts when he heard a shout and when he looked back he saw a young boy now standing beside the woman, staring down at his wolf with a curious gaze.  
“These look like that witchers eyes to you?” He felt his heart in his throat, his wolf may or may not have the same eyes as a witcher that was recently kicked out of town, and whilst spirit animals eyes were rarely the same as the persons' soulmate, there was something wholly unique with his wolf’s yellow gaze that he had wholeheartedly believed it was unique to his soulmate as well.

“The very same, damn near pissed myself when he stared at me like that” 

The comment earned a small slap from the barmaid, but there was no heat behind it and he was curious as to what had happened a few weeks ago “And you deserved it for riling ‘im up, you never learn” There were a couple of chuckles around the bar at that before the barmaid shooed the man back to his table, but his mind was so busy with all this information, there was no way a witcher could be his soulmate, could he?

Once again he was brought out of his thoughts by his wolf nudging at his hand, moving it stroke over its head briefly before turning back towards the bar where he saw a pint of ale and a key ready and waiting for him, an expectant look on the barmaid’s face.

“One sign of trouble and you’re out alright?” He nodded, a sense of relief washing over him at the fact he wouldn’t be made to sleep on a rock or in some ditch somewhere outside tonight, at least those nights he had his wolf to curl against for warmth, but even then he always woke up with an ache in his neck and even more tired than the night before. 

He gave his thanks as he handed the coin to the barmaid, barely hearing that his food would be ten minutes before she was off talking to someone else, although the way the snake at her neck glared at his wolf made him uneasy. With a final sigh, the day already starting to catch up to him he took the key and the ale and made his way to a quickly vacated table, his wolf easily settling at his feet.

For a moment he simply gazed across the inn as he nursed his drink, watching the interactions between friends and lovers and it had his hands itch for his lute. After some shuffling and a muttered swear to his wolf who wouldn’t get up from where it lay across his feet, he was finally able to retrieve the instrument he’d hung across his back, spending a minute or so tuning the instrument, the sound of which he could tell had gotten a few curious glances his way.

He started playing softly a first, a few simple tunes he’d thought of during the day meant only for his ears, testing them out to determine whether he could get a semi-decent song out of it when a shout from across the inn got his attention. An older man, clearly on his way to becoming blackout drunk was eager to get his attention “Hey bard, play us a song” Not one to turn down his audience he quickly started on one of the merrier songs he knew, one that always got the drunkest locals singing and dancing along, and sure enough he soon had a small crowd insistent on singing the song with him.

One song turned into another and still the people cheered him on, he could see a couple of them fish in their pockets for a coin to throw, yet they still held back, the wolf at his feet clearly not helping the matter. It was after he finished the second song that he extracted his feet away from the wolf and got out from his table before quickly starting his rendition of fishmonger’s daughter, the whole inn now singing along with him as he weaved his way between tables as they clapped hands and smacked tables.

He didn’t need to look, but as always, when his eyes turned back to his table there was his wolf staring only at him, a displeased look on its face as he carried on dancing between people, no doubt ready to make a move lest anything were to happen to him. When the song ended he was met with a chorus of “again” and “encore” and with a smile he started the whole act again, glad when a few coins came flying his way before insisting on a break since his food had arrived.

On his way back to the table he’d gotten a few claps on the back and was even hugged into one man’s side as they thanked and cheered him on, only just sending a look of warning at his wolf who he could tell was letting out a low growl in his throat at the touch. With a roll of his eyes, he peeled away from the crowd and ventured back to his table, his wolf giving him a stoic expression the whole time.

He just sighed and gave a fond smile to the wolf as he placed his lute down beside the table and with his other hand stroked the animals head “I know you don’t like my music but you could at least look like you’re happy for once” the wolf stayed sat as it was, leveling him with an even stare causing him to give it another fond smile before sitting down in his seat.

Now that he was sat back down the wolf relaxed a little but was still diligent in its duties, although not so much that he wouldn’t accept the odd bit of food he offered it. It warmed him a little how gentle the animal actually was, even offered food like this it wouldn’t snatch it from his hand as he’d seen other animals do, instead, the wolf would gently take the food from his open palm before chowing down on whatever was given. If only everyone else could see him in the same light.

It was during dinner that a number of other townsfolk joined the inn, and whilst he liked to think they had come to listen to his second act after dinner, the more likely truth was that they came to see the white wolf by his side. 

Ignoring the growing stares behind him he instead turned to listen to snippets of other people’s conversations, one that particularly struck him was how bandits had been seen targeting merchants and travelers alike along the main road, hell a man had even been killed, and whilst he hated to admit it, the wolfs detour didn’t seem like such a bad idea now.  
With that thought he turned to the wolf in question, the animal didn’t turn to look at him, but he could definitely feel the sense of “I told you so” radiating off of the wolf, instead he carded a gentle hand through the fur on its back and offered it a larger chunk of food as a thank you.

The fact that the wolf was able to sense the danger struck him, sure its happened before now and it’s likely the only reason he’s still alive given by how much he traveled and the people he meets, and yet after the earlier mention of a witcher, a witcher who had the same eyes as his wolf, he couldn’t stop turning the thought around in his head. Whilst a part of him would keep rattling on that witchers never had soulmates, that their trials ensured the fact, he couldn’t help but feel that the evidence was slowly stacking up against him.

Even if he entertained the thought that a witcher soulmate was possible, feelings of inadequacy soon took their place. Witchers were fighters and more than capable of handling themselves, despised by most and as such preferring the company of no one except their horse if they were lucky enough to afford one. He, however, was a bard who hadn’t fought a day in his life, who would be more of a burden walking through forests and up mountains and would simply get in the way during a fight, even if he did know some basic self-defense. All of that without mentioning that his profession thrived on the attention of others, to be surrounded by others all as eager as he was to fill the silence with music as he coaxed them to give him their coin.

The thought made his heart ache a little and he couldn’t help but turn to look at his wolf, no longer staring at the crowd but at him with an intent gaze and he didn’t have to say anything before the animal’s head was resting in his lap, soft yellow eyes looking up at him.

He gave a wry smile to the animal as he slowly started to stroke its head, more so for his own sake than the wolf’s “How are we gonna make this work huh? You hate my music and I couldn’t survive a day in the wild” The wolf just looked up at him expectantly, staring at him in a way as if he should already know the answer. “I enjoy our travels together too, at least until you laugh when I fall over” his smile was more genuine as he saw the wolfs tail wag slowly side to side as if it was a dog happy to see its owner.

Suddenly the wolf climbed up onto him, its two front paws now resting on his legs as he grunted a little at the weight, but he lost that thought when those yellow eyes met his, and somehow it was all he needed to tell himself that whoever his soulmate was, witcher or not, they were meant to be. The fact brought a softer smile to his face as he brought a hand up to stroke the animal’s neck, but what he didn’t expect was when it leaned forward to lick his jaw at first before moving onto his face and only when it neared his mouth did he push the wolf back down.

It was rare for the wolf to show him affection so openly in public, the animal was happy to comfort him behind closed doors, when dark thoughts would crowd his mind as he lay in bed, so he’s sure he must have been the picture of misery a minute ago for the wolf to lick him now. The action did its job though and the topic of soulmates was gone from his mind as he put his plate of half-eaten food on the floor for his wolf to finish before picking up the lute.

It was a distraction tactic admittedly, one the wolf knew and let him get away with, so more of a deal he supposed as in the past the wolf would grab his lute and run away with it, never causing damage if the animal could avoid it, but the message rang loud and clear.

Nevertheless, there was still more coin to make in this town, so with a final pat to the wolfs back he stood back up before starting up fishmonger’s daughter again, a resounding sound of cheers across the bar welcomed the song and he quickly reveled in the way he had already enraptured the crowd, almost like a spell as his fingers worked their magic long into the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the love on the last chapter.
> 
> Is dialogue my weakness? you bet your ass it is but here you are anyway.
> 
> Also, I would highly recommend listening to the new The Amazing Devil album(a band Joey's (Jaskier) in) on Bandcamp, it called The Horror and the Wild and it really hits you in the feels and there's definitely some easter eggs for geraltskier if you listen.

He couldn’t say how long the lark had been with him, a couple of months? Maybe 4? He didn’t typically pay attention to the days that passed him by, he just traveled, fought monsters and slept, and that was all he needed.

However long it had been, enough time had passed since the hunt in the no-name town for his lark to heal. A fact made evident by the way the small bird would bounce on the table, chirping happily before flying up to his shoulder to do the same and then back to the table. Sure, the bird was always a nuisance chattering away in his ear, flitting around Roach to try and get her attention until it returned to his shoulder in defeat, but he had gotten used to the small animal by his side. People still eyed him suspiciously as he walked past them and despite the friendly nature of his lark, always eager for other people’s attention, it was typically met with disdain from and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the small bird, if only it had chosen someone else.

He had stopped questioning the sudden presence of the bird or why it still stayed despite being hurt all those moons ago, silently grateful each morning when he woke up to the small weight on his chest, even if he had to put up with its constant song.

Right now though he couldn’t help but frown at the small bird as it grew ever more restless in its bouncing on the table and his arm, its constant singing earning more than a few glares of people nearby but not even the temptation of food would quiet it.

He was only at the damn inn for the lark’s sake anyway. Over their time together the small bird had expressed an interest in some of the entertainers that would sing for the locals, eagerly hopping on his shoulder as it tried to chirp along with the song. It was a sight he was sure would make even the hardiest man smile, not him of course, only tarnished by the fact he had to be surrounded by drunkards and that he actually had to listen to said singing himself.

Sure he didn’t have to stay, and he’s sure that if he were to leave, the lark would easily follow after him, although he would be sure to get several tugs on his hair for his trouble. It was something his bird had started doing when it wasn’t too pleased with him but which only earned a grunt from him, and maybe a small smile. It was somewhat funny seeing such a display of anger from such a small animal, but his mind would always go back to that hunt where the lark had saved him, and almost died in the process.

At least now when he went on hunts the lark had the sense to stay back in the trees as it should, although he was sure that should the need arise it wouldn’t hesitate to intervene again, and it was that reason that he found himself on his second pint of ale, suffering the restlessness of his bird whilst they waited for some famed bard to arrive.

When he says famed he used the term loosely, more of a friend of the inn owner who’s letting him play for the night, but it’s all the same to him anyway. The thought had crossed his mind before about finding something to plug his ears with to try and make the music more tolerable, but whenever he had so much as looked at a potential item his lark would bite his fingers and glare at him until he finally conceded.

Instead, he found a better alternative, to get as piss drunk as he could. At least the alcohol would serve to dull his senses a little, making the sounds of people throwing up in the street and the smell of sweat, shit, and lust just a bit more bearable. He was quickly working himself up to that point now in fact, forcing down the last of his drink before signaling the bartender for another when suddenly the bird was nipping at his fingers.

He let out a small swear as he stared at the small bird, seriously debating just up and leaving to his room for the night if that was how it was going to be, but before he could chastise the animal it flew up to grab a lock of his hair in its beak and tugged it a little. The small bird was really starting to try his patience now, even more so than normal which was an achievement in itself, but then it was gone from his side, flying in front of him and it was then he saw it, well them.

Just past his bird, he saw who he assumed to be the bard the owner had talked about given the way they shared a quick hug and the lute strapped to his back, but most notable was the wolf at the bard’s side. 

Rarely had he ever seen something that had shocked him, but this he could definitely add to the list. He wracked his brain for a minute, trying to determine if he’d ever heard of someone having a wolf as their spirit animal before, but his mind came up blank. It was hard to take his gaze from the animal at the man’s side, although it looked relaxed he could tell by the way it stood, moving its weight between its two front paws that it was ready to defend the man should the need arise.

In the furthest reaches of his mind, he noted that it was a white wolf, a wolf that was rare even by normal standards, but the worst of it was the flashes of memory of people calling him the white wolf that came unbidden to his mind. He quickly decided that he was thinking far too much into this, rightfully so, why should he care what people’s spirit animals were, provided they weren’t killing others it should be of no concern to him. Even so, he couldn’t take his eyes away from the pair as they headed to the other corner of the inn where most of the people had gathered, probably to keep away from him but he had no issue with that.

The first thing he noted is how almost immediately the wolf laid down, curled up and eyes shut as it feigned deep breaths so that all the world would think it was falling asleep, but he had no doubt the wolf was still guarding the bard. It was a smart ploy to be fair, people were a lot more likely to throw some coins to the man if there wasn’t a huge wolf that looked ready to kill at any moment between them.

As the bard started the first couple of chords for a song he already knew would be some sickly sweet song about soulmates, it was all anyone could sing about apparently, he was just glad when a fresh pint was put down in front of him. He asked the man for another one immediately as he quickly downed the drink in a few gulps, given the way the crowd was already clapping along and swaying to the song he knew it wouldn’t be too long before they became loud, rowdy, and unrestrained.

At least his lark was enjoying the show, the bird had returned to its spot on his shoulder as it tried to sing along to the tune of the song. It’s at this point he figured the alcohol may slowly be kicking in because he thought the sound of his bird complimented that of the bards quite well, not that he would ever admit that.

When his next drink arrived he tries to exercise a bit more restraint instead of downing it, but when he heard the start of another ballad he was quickly chugging it back. Not that it’s the bard’s fault, well it is really, he could tell why the people liked him, he was attractive, had a decent voice and knew how to play the crowd, a charming smile here and a wink there and the coin would come flying, but personally, he couldn’t see the fuss.

It’s when he took another sip of his drink to try and calm the irritation he could feel prick at the back of his neck that he actually heard the song the bard played. It definitely wasn’t a ballad, hell it wasn’t even a song he had heard before, but it talked about loss, about stripped away childhoods and lifetimes alone, and whilst it was never said he knew the song was about him. Well not him specifically, but Witchers in general.

He suddenly found himself rapt in attention for the rest of the song, trying to determine whether the people would throw the bard out or cheer him on for such a bold song about his kind. He had expected the former, so when the song finished and there was raucous cheer throughout the bar, coins being thrown at the bard from all directions as maidens wiped tears from their eyes he couldn’t help but bite his tongue in anger.

It wasn’t enough for him to be shunned by those around him, tolerated provided he killed whatever threatened them until he became their next threat, but now they could act as if they cared about his plight, hell even cry over it and yet still treat him worse then the dirt under their shoes.

Feeling in a decidedly worse mood he got up to leave, ignoring the shrill chirp of his bird all but telling him off for interrupting the bard’s current song but he didn’t care, he was just eager to escape to the solace of his room. At least that was until he reached the door and realized the bird wasn’t with him.

Turning around he leveled a stare with the lark still on the table staring after him. It was the strangest stare off he ever had, but he was half tempted to just turn and leave, if the bird wanted to stay then it would, maybe it was best they part ways, it would certainly make both his days and nights more peaceful.

However, before he could turn he saw the lark fly off towards the bard and he could just barely make out that it had landed on the floor in front of him, and his wolf. The way he saw the wolf's head snap towards the bird sent a spike of worry through him and it was with a curse that he was shoving his way through the crowd until he was stood in front of the bard, ready to save it from the wolf's jaws if need be.

What he hadn’t expected to see was his lark now perched on the musician’s lute, the other man offering small smiles to the animal as they both sang whatever song he was playing, it’s then that he caught the attention of the bard. He almost startled when he heard one of the strings on the lute snap, sure he was a Witcher, but he’d never gotten that sort of reaction before, not to mention the intense way the bard now stared at him made him shift uncomfortably on the spot.

He barely made out a flash of movement and when he looked down he saw the wolf now sitting in front of the bard and staring up at him with an equally intense gaze, but what made him actually freeze was that he saw his own eyes staring back at him.

It was disconcerting to say the least and for a moment he’s sure he felt what others do when he gives them his own piercing gaze, but with it just comes more questions. Why does the bard have a wolf? Why does the wolf have his eyes? Why was the bard now looking at him like he held all of the answers in the world?

All of this thinking was giving him a headache, only sparing a brief look at his lark that was now looking expectantly between him and the other man, and when it was apparent it wasn’t getting the attention it needed it once again flew to stand on the floor. 

In the back of his mind he noted how quite the inn was, barely a breath could be heard from anymore and in any normal situation he would enjoy the blessed silence for once, but here it only served to agitate him more, knowing that all these people were witnessing whatever the fuck was happening now.

His thoughts were brought back to the scene in front of him when he saw the wolf peer down at the small bird with an utterly bored expression, but he knew well of his lark's penchant for trouble so was ready to intervene in the case the wolf decided he’d had enough of the smaller animal. What he hadn’t expected, and neither had everyone else watching given by their gasps, was that the bird flew on top of the wolf’s head. He had half expected the wolf to snap its head up and try to catch the bird in its mouth, the animal was definitely fast enough, and yet the wolf just lay down in front of the bards feet, apparently none the wiser to the bird now hopping excitedly on its head as it trilled out its success.

He heard a few mutterings of soulmate from the crowd and he couldn’t help but scowl, not ten minutes ago they were crying over the sorrow of his lonely life, without a soulmate, and now they were adamant that he had one in this bard. Said man still staring up at him as if trying to discern if he was real or not.

The stories were known continent-wide, other spirit animals rarely interacted with each other, there only being two scenarios that they would. One, if their person was in danger some animals may try and intervene to help save them, whether it be from person or animal, but those occasions were rare. The animals took after the person’s soulmate and in this day and age most people were too meek and cowardly to stand up to anyone in a fight, more than happy to hide instead. The second, and most notable, was if two people were soulmates.

He supposed it was lucky that his bird was just that, an ordinary bird who had one day decided to become his companion, it was convincing everyone else of that fact that was the problem. Not that he owed them an explanation, in fact, he didn’t plan on it, giving one final look at the scene where he saw the bard extend a hand to him, likely to introduce himself, but he only regarded it with a snarl before he turned to storm out into the dying light of the evening.

The lark he had half expected to abandon him and remain with the odd pairing of wolf and bard, they were already better companions than he had made with the bird and he was surprised when he felt the lark return to his shoulder. Acknowledging the small animal with a scowl if anything, its presence not doing anything to deter peoples, and his own, mind to the thought of soulmates.

It was simply not possible. Never had it happened before and since he had first arrived at Kaer Morhen it had been drilled into all of them that it would never happen, their focus was the Path and only that.

So focused on his brooding thoughts that he didn’t notice the way his bird all but shouted at him, he only felt the tight tug at his hair and swore as he batted above his head to try and get it to let go. If he really wanted to it wouldn’t take much to swat the bird away, his reflexes were a lot faster than the birds, and yet he didn’t want to risk hurting it, at least that was before a particularly sharp tug had him let out another swear and he had to stop for a moment to try and detangle the lark from his hair.

He knew he had upset the animal, that was clearly evident, exactly why he wasn’t sure. So what if he hadn’t waited to listen to more of the bards squawking, the lark had had it’s fun and now it was time to leave, simple as that, and totally not because he didn’t want to come to terms with whatever the fuck happened in that bar.

The sound of the door of the inn opening behind him had him turn his head, letting out a groan when he saw the bard running out, his wolf close behind. He then ignored the way the lark pulled at his hair with renewed vigor as he quickly made his way towards Roach, eager to just leave the town and the previous events behind him. At least that was until he saw a blur of white and then there was the wolf, hackles raised, and teeth bared at it snarled at him.

It’s not that he’s scared of the wolf, hell he’s fought off a pack or two in his time before, one wolf on its own wouldn’t be a problem, but the fact that it was someone’s spirit animal is the reason he stayed his hand from reaching for the steel sword on his back. Killing someone’s spirit animal essentially tore away a part of that person’s soul, he had seen it only once in his lifetime and he didn’t plan to see it again, no matter how annoying said animal and owner were.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t let out his own snarl at the animal, softening a little when he felt the bird release his hair, but only turning into a scowl at the sight of the lark one again on the wolfs head as it very definitely told him off. Now was as good a time as any, the bard had yet to reach him and now bird free he quickly dashed to the side to make a final rush for Roach.

The whole scene was stupid to him, and dare he say entertaining to anyone who watched, and yet he wanted nothing more than to get out of this godforsaken town and never return if he had any say in it. He was just about to hop over the stall door to get to Roach before he felt teeth grab the sleeve of his armor and stop him in his tracks, his plans to escape now ruined both because the wolf had a hold on him and said wolf had spooked his horse enough that she was now far too agitated to easily climb onto and ride away.

He was tempted to hit the wolf, in fact, he even pulled his fist back to do so, at that moment he had little qualms about the action and if anything the animal deserved it for putting holes, however small, in his armor. The only thing that stayed his fist was the sight of the bard running up to join them, even after the short dash he was red in the face and something pulled in his chest at the thought of the man crumpling to the floor in pain if he harmed the animal which still had a firm hold on him.

“You know we have to talk eventually, may as well do it now otherwise I’ll just follow you around everywhere until you get so sick of me you beg to talk to me”

He couldn’t help but scoff at the statement “I wouldn’t count on it bard”, if he were to ride on Roach there was no way the bard could keep pace with him, especially given the way he was still flustered after the small run from the inn to the stable.

“You underestimate my capabilities of being annoying dear Witcher, add to that my wolf who could easily keep pace if you ever dare to run off then you have a recipe for a very trying future” He couldn’t keep back the swear under his breath, not even doubting the man’s promise to insert himself into any and every corner of his life that he could.

With a sigh that sounded of defeat, he pulled his sleeve from the wolf's jaw with a grumbled “fine”, ignoring the bright smile that appeared on the bard's face as if he’d gotten the best gift in the world.

“Now, whilst I appreciate all of this” The way the bards hands flailed in front of him and the pointed gaze briefly aimed at his ass, it wasn’t hard to get what the man was hinting at “I didn’t think I’d have to put in quite this much effort just to be able to talk to my soulmate, in fac-“

“Don’t call me that” He said it a bit stronger than he meant to, and yet it didn’t deter the bard.

“Call you what? Soulmate? Well that’s what you are isn’t it, whether you’ve got that through that pretty head of yours yet or not. Besides it’s not like you’ve given me a name yet” He could only give a small non-committal grunt as the bard just put his hands on his hips, waiting for an answer he didn’t intend to give.

With that he turned, ignoring the wolf stalking close behind him as he approached Roach with hands raised in an effort to calm her. Whatever the bard was saying to him he promptly ignored, more focused on stroking his mare’s neck just to soothe her before putting her bridle in with the intent to lead out towards the inn before he went to pick up his belongings and put this town behind him.

Sure he was annoyed at having already paid for a room, but even if the bard did follow through with his word and trail after him, he at least wanted to get out of the town and the prying eyes of the locals. However, he had only just started tugging at Roach to follow him before the wolf was snarling at him again and beside it was the bard looking just as disapproving “Where do you think you’re going? You said we’d talk things out, I wasn’t lying when I said I would make your life hell”

“But you’re already doing such a good job” He had to bite back the small smile that threatened his mouth at the way the man narrowed his eyes at him before reluctantly he explained “You want to talk then we go where I want, which is out of this fucking town”

“No, no, not happening. I have an audience and a bag of coin waiting for me back in that inn, and I won’t get it if I go out galivanting with you so you’ll either go in willingly or my wolf will drag you in” He had to admire the bard’s courage, few humans had the courage to speak so brashly to him, let alone when they were sober, and yet this man acted as if he couldn’t snap him like a twig if he wanted to.

Their stare off continued for another moment before he pulled off Roach’s bridle and gave a final pat in farewell before he stormed off back in the direction of the inn, cursing under his breath the whole time until he felt his lark perch back on his shoulder. The sight of the small animal made him smile a little before he cast a look back at the bard walking just behind him in conversation with his own wolf “How is there someone more annoying than you” 

The bird just continued to look at him for a moment before cuddling up against his neck and earning a small huff from him, and that was it until they reached the door to the inn, beyond it he could hear the people getting drunker, their words slurred and their shouts bawdy. He stopped for a moment until the bard stopped in front of him, assessing him with a final look before he spoke “Geralt”

“What was that?” The tease of a smile on the bard’s face told him that he heard, but not willing to drag this on further he simply grit his teeth and replied.

“My name, Geralt of Rivia”

“Geralt of Rivia, my white wolf” If only looks could kill then the bard would have been long dead, but despite it, the man seemed unfazed by the look, he couldn’t even smell a hint of fear, just mild amusement as well as something earthy yet sweet that he was beginning to associate with the man “I’m Jaskier”

“I heard you the first time”

“Oh really? Surprised you heard it at all whilst you were attempting your escape” All he could do was bite back his tongue as he stepped into the inn, hoping to drown out the bard's chatter at least for the time being. It was promising to be a long night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah it's a small chapter, the dialogue is still meh but thanks again for all the kudos and kind comments, it's really appreciated.

Giving a final cursory glance around the room and content that he hadn’t left anything behind he turned to leave, not even sparing a look at the bird still on the bed, chirping furiously for what he was doing but he paid it no mind. He couldn’t help but feel a bit smug when it flew to join him on his shoulder before he could close the door behind him, not that it stopped the telling off he was currently getting in his ear.

Last night he’d been forced to watch the bard perform for the inn, any attempt to leave stopped dead in its tracks by the stern yellow gaze aimed at him from the man's wolf. No matter how much he drank or tried to focus on anything else around him he couldn’t knock off the unsettling way those eyes, his eyes, pierced into him.

Eventually, the bard retired for the night and moved to sit in front of him, smile bright on his face as he launched into some story he doesn’t bother to listen to, only offering an occasional hum or grunt to act as if he was listening. His act barely lasted halfway through his drink before he was shoved and he turned to glare at the man opposite him, used to having people squirm under his gaze but the bard was unaffected. If anything he looked about three seconds from ripping his head off and the fact had him let out a small grunt of apology before returning to his drink, conceding defeat this time.

As soon as his drink was finished he got up to leave, ignoring the bard's protests as he went towards his room, simply grunting out that he was going to bed before leaving the man to his own devices. One thing that had struck him was how dedicated the bard was to talk to him, to be by his side, even if he did note that his lark, now playing in the loose hair over his shoulder, was all but the same.

What he hadn’t been prepared for was the bard telling him that he would accompany him on his travels from now on, to sing his praises to all those who would listen, even those who wouldn’t, until the public would learn to welcome, not despise him. He already knew the endeavor was pointless, people would never change, so that’s where he found himself now, sneaking out before daybreak to leave this town and the bard with his freakishly large wolf behind him.

He smelt him before he saw him, the smell of something earthy yet sweet, not too offensive a smell he thought before he rounded the corner of the stable to see the bard, barely awake as he stood by Roach whilst his wolf aimed a leveled stare at him. Seeing the wolf, he was starting to understand better why people weren’t too fond of him, at least until his lark flew from his shoulder to stand on the wolf’s head, the sight enough to get a small smile at the sheer absurdity of it.

It was with a hum that he realized the bard had already saddled up Roach for the day's ride, silently swearing to himself at the man’s determination to appease him. He moved towards the horse to attach his bag before he shook the bard awake, they’d have to work on that he determined as he mounted the horse and waited for the bard to get his bearings.

“Ah Geralt, you’re awake. You’ll see I got your horse ready for you, well of course you know if you’re riding her –“

“That’s enough bard, we’ve got a long day”

“I have a name you know” He didn’t bother replying but the quiet he usually valued felt odd, stilted and uncomfortable as they slowly made their way out of town and it wasn’t long before it became almost suffocating.

He cast a look to the side, watching the almost dejected way the bard walked alongside him, yet he still followed, and he couldn’t help but sigh before reaching into one of the bags by his leg “Have you eaten Jaskier?”

He had to keep back his smirk at the way the bards head shot up at the question before his face became flustered and he quickly looked away, deciding best not to question the reaction “Uh no, not yet. I didn’t know when you were leaving so it was sort of a mad rush to get out in time –“

“Here” He shoved a small bag towards the bard containing some bread, cheese, a few nuts and berries for him to help himself, feeling his chest get a little tight at the bright smile Jaskier aimed at him as he took the bag with a soft ‘thank you’. That feeling didn’t last long as he side-eyed the man who had now taken to humming around every bite of food he took, and whilst it was relatively fresh, it was nowhere near as good as the bard was making it out to be “You make too much noise”

Jaskier just leveled a glare at him before handing back the bag of food, and as he put it back he heard soft music begin to fill the air around them “Well you need to work on your social etiquette Geralt, but you don’t hear me criticizing you for it”

“You just did” Now he did have to put in some effort to keep back his smile at the second glare he got from the bard.

“And now you know for the future”

He just let out a hum in reply hoping that would be the end of it, but still, the bard picked at the strings with ease, it was certainly a nicer melody than some of the songs he’d played the night before “Does that mean you’ll keep quiet”

“I’m a bard Geralt, if I’m to sing songs about your heroics you had better get used to it”

Whilst he wanted to argue the matter further, that he wasn’t heroic, that there was no song to make his actions heroic and that he definitely didn’t need a defenseless bard trailing after him, he’s sure his concern wouldn’t have gone over well with the man in question. 

There was also the matter that so far he didn’t actually mind the man’s company, yes he was unused to conversation with others that existed outside of contracts, but he couldn’t deny that it felt somewhat pleasant to have someone choose to be beside him.

The rest of the day's journey was uneventful, having long since stopped paying any attention to whatever tune the bard was trying to create. A couple of times he had urged Roach into more of a trot just to test the waters of how serious the man had been on following him, but the wolf had always kept stride with him, and he’d gotten a serious chewing out from Jaskier for his effort.

Eventually night started to approach, and they had to stop to set up camp for the night, after making their way through the treeline and into a small clearing he tied Roach onto a low branch. He took a moment to unsaddle her, stroking a gentle hand down her neck with an apple in the other which she whinnied gratefully at before taking it. A small chirp in his ear had him rolling his eyes before reaching into his pocket to offer a couple of nuts to the small lark at his shoulder, stroking a gentle finger across its breast as the bird preened at the attention.

He quickly took the small smile off of his lips as he turned to drop the bags by Jaskiers’ feet with a simple grunt to get their beds ready whilst he went to hunt for dinner, all the while the man was looking up at him with what he would describe as adoration, affection even, and the knowledge had something coil uncomfortably in his stomach. He’s surprised not to hear a complaint, not that he stayed long enough to hear one, quietly stalking deeper into the woods in the hopes that he’d find something that would feed at least the bard. Whilst he’s accustomed to going a day or two with no food he’s sure the bard isn’t, and he isn’t willing to find out how insufferable he could get.

***********

An hour later and he had two rabbits at his belt, he had hoped for something bigger, but this would suffice for now. As he walked back to camp, collecting firewood as he did so, he couldn’t help but think that it wouldn’t be long before Jaskier realized that traveling alongside him was far from glamourous, and he hated the way that his chest tugged painfully at the thought.

He could hear them before he caught sight of the unlikely group, Jaskier and his lark both singing quietly, the man’s voice lilting softly, and he couldn’t help but feel captivated by it. Quietly he stalked closer towards them, only just now noticing the fire that Jaskier had built when he was away before the man caught sight of him and his song stopped, only to be replaced by a warm smile as he stood up to take the rabbits off of him.

The action confused him a little, even more so when he saw Jaskier pull a knife out of his sleeve and began the arduous process of skinning and preparing tonight’s dinner. For a moment he watched, thinking that maybe the bard was simply trying to impress him, but instead, he watched an expert hand make quick work of the rabbits before putting them on a spit over the fire.

“I know I must seem like a frail damsel to you, but I’m not entirely useless” Still he stayed rooted to the spot, trying to figure out the man in front of him “You know you can actually sit down and relax Geralt, it’s not like I’ve grown a second head” It’s that comment that brought him out of his thoughts and quickly dump the wood he’d collected near the fire before moving to sit on the log Jaskier had clearly placed by the fireside close to his.

“You know how to skin an animal?” Jaskier just rolled his eyes at him as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What can I say, I’m good with my hands” It’s then that Jaskier wiggles his fingers a little with a wink and he can’t keep back the small smile before the other man continued “But, to answer your question, this isn’t my first time camping under the stars. At least the company is better” With that, he saw Jaskier aim a pointed look at his wolf dozing by the fire, who only gave a twitch of its ears in response.

“Still doesn’t answer my question though”

“My, my we are impatient, aren’t we. Is this why you hardly talk? Cause everyone is too slow to answer your curiosities?” He just glares at the man for a moment, and when that failed to get a reaction he simply grunted as he turned to face the fire. At least that was until he felt a smack onto his arm which had his head snap to the other man who had a playful grin on his face “learn to take a joke Geralt”

He simply grunted, taking a final glance of the other man before staring back at the fire, not willing to think about the soft glow that the fire gave to Jaskier and gave him an almost ethereal glow that he would normally eagerly drink up, but the whole potential soulmate thing left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“To answer you though, if there was a time I had to sleep outside, my wolf would go and hunt something for dinner and it was either learn to prepare it properly or starve, I learned that the hard way” He let out a small huff, the closest he got to a laugh these days, before casting another glance at the wolf not three paces away.

“Can you do anything else that’s useful” It was almost comical the look of indignation that crossed Jaskier’s face and he anticipated the second hit to his shoulder, and yet didn’t move away from the touch.

“I made the fire didn’t I? and I’ll have you know I’m good at a great many things, not that I need to prove them to you”

He just grunted as he turned to try and hide his small smile “I’ll believe it when I see it”

Jaskier just mumbled to himself as he picked up his lute again, stringing a couple of chords before his lark went to rest on the instrument, eager to carry on with their practice, but not before Jaskier got the last word in “Honestly I don’t know how you put up with him for so long, no appreciation for the finer things I’m telling you”

The lark just chirped, almost as if it was agreeing with the other man’s predicament and he couldn’t help but frown at the fact, not liking the way that he was starting to get outnumbered in this ragtag group. 

It was only after Jaskier had hummed the first song of the night, his fingers dancing across the lute strings as the soft melody filled the air that he finally broke whatever spell he felt he’d been put under. He turned the rabbits still roasting over the fire, before sitting back down to let his mind wander to the sound of the quiet songs being played, a small sense of calm easing over him.

Maybe bringing the bard along wasn’t as bad an idea as he thought.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been the better part of two months since he had joined Geralt on his adventures, and whilst it was fair to say he was head over heels in love with the man, the same couldn’t be said for Geralt. Most days he got little conversation from the witcher unless they were little jabs and cutting remarks, something he’d resigned himself to getting since that first day.

Now as he stalked through the dark forest, his wolf padding silently beside, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of bitterness about the whole situation, trying to find at what point he went wrong.

He’d done everything in his power to try and please the other man, to get some sort of positive reaction from him, from setting up camp to actually shutting up some evenings when Geralt seemed particularly on edge. Hell, after their first hunt together, the one that had them bound by a group of elves and their throats almost slit, he’d heeded the witchers words to stay behind when he went on a job.

That was all well and good since the song he had made of the whole fiasco had become a continent hit and definitely had some people look at Geralt with kinder eyes, despite that it didn’t stop the witcher from denouncing the song in private whenever he was forced to hear it. 

The fact that his efforts either went unacknowledged or utterly rejected did little to stop the voice niggling at the back of his head telling him that he’d played himself for a fool by following a witcher around, and yet he persisted with his efforts. 

Which is why he found himself out in the woods at such a late hour, he was out of inspiration for his music and sick of staying behind left to think about anything and everything that could go wrong on a job, all of which ended with Geralt dead.

So tonight he took things into his own hands, after he had made sure Roach was safely fixed to a tree, fairly hidden from the road, he set off in the direction that Geralt had gone. Not that he had to put much effort into tracking him, his wolf did that for him, and it was a lot shorter journey than he had anticipated as even in the low light he could make out Geralt’s frame through a set of trees, still and poised, frozen on the spot.

He stood still to watch the scene in front of him unfold, ducking behind a tree to try and stay hidden from both the monster and Geralt, yet also able to see the action, and it would’ve worked had he not snapped a twig as he did so.

The sound caused him to wince, and yet when he saw Geralt’s head snap to face him he found himself immobile as the witcher hurried towards him. He had half expected to be shoved against a tree, maybe get a good punch for disobeying his command, and yet Geralt still kept a fair distance and all the while kept his head turned away from him for a reason he didn’t know.

When he tried to peer around and get a glimpse of Geralt’s face, even if it did mean that he would meet the witcher's wrath, still Geralt kept that distance and he couldn’t help but be worried, had a fight already happened? Was Geralt hurt but trying to keep up pretenses that he was fine? It wouldn’t be the first time.

Before he could take a step towards the other man, what he planned to say he didn’t know, he was beaten to the task by Geralt who spoke with barely more than a hushed hiss “When the fight starts you need to run back to town and I won’t hear anything else about it”

Before he could say some sort of come back Geralt was once again stalking back to the clearing. If he was honest he didn’t know what Geralt was hunting this time, he’d just decided to come along for the sake of professional interest, and also to ease his worries about Geralt’s fate, but the other man didn’t need to know that. 

With a sigh he leaned back against the tree, his arms folded as he stared after the witcher whilst his wolf just took to sitting next to him, waiting for the inevitable fight to start. He couldn’t say how long he stood there simply watching but he felt the air around him change, become thick and charged with tension that had the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge.

The sound of a bird chirping startled him a little and it was then he saw Geralt’s lark flitting through the branches, not going to rest on the man’s shoulder as it normally would and instead nestled into the lower branches of the trees above them. He had a whole manner of questions about what just happened, especially when the witcher turned to the direction the bird had come, but he didn’t have time to think on them when suddenly a large beast came flying through the air straight at Geralt.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out it was a werewolf, and whilst he remembered Geralt’s command to run, he couldn’t help but stay and watch as he dodged fast claws and sharp teeth, letting out quiet gasps of relief when the witcher hit a blow to the beast or dodged one fast enough.

He was entranced by the sight of the two of them twisting around one another in an effort to get a hit in, letting out a small gasp as suddenly a green gas filled the area that looked anything but friendly. Whilst he wanted to go and grab Geralt, to help him any way he could, he knew he would be of no use in this fight, and yet he couldn’t help but feel the itch to get into the fray to at least do something, and given by the way his wolf bared its teeth every now and then in a snarl, it clearly felt the same.

Eventually, the fog dissipated and he’s somewhat relieved at the cuts he can see along the beast’s arm and stomach, however, it’s only short-lived when he saw the streak of blood staining Geralt’s white hair red.

With a sick sense of dread he felt like he was watching his worst fears come to life, the day Geralt would finally be cut down, only made worse by the werewolf’s howl cutting through the otherwise quiet night and the answering howls it got in return.

He didn’t need to be a witcher to hear the sound of more wolves running to join the fray, no doubt to ensure the Witcher’s demise and he couldn’t stop himself as he began to run towards the fight, already drawing the silver knife from his sleeve.

His eyes catch onto the sight of a wolf running towards them through the trees, only able to make it out due to the glow of its eyes but he could see the way it fixated on Geralt who was currently trying to attack the werewolf who still seemed relatively unaffected by the whole thing.

He could guess what the wolf planned, likely to catch the witcher from behind and give the werewolf an in to give the killing blow, but before he could ready his knife a flash of white caught his eye and suddenly his wolf was grappling with the one who had been a hair’s breadth from sinking its teeth into Geralt’s leg. He let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding as he saw his wolf make short work of it before taking up a defensive position at Geralt’s back.

A quick glance up at the trees and he could just make out the lark chirping anxiously above them, just able to catch its attention and it’s when their eyes meet that they seem to formulate a plan together.

It’s after Geralt had dodged his way close to the beast to get a couple of swipes of his sword in, barely able to dodge the claws that threatened to tear his back open, when the werewolf was about to pounce at the witcher that they moved.

Just before the monster could act the lark flew at his face stopping its leap before it flitted away, not allowing time for the werewolf to strike at it, almost as if the bird had done this before but that was a question for another time. As soon as the bird had escaped he flung the knife and it was almost like the world slowed down as he saw it fly through the air until it landed in the werewolf’s throat.

The guttural growl from the beast as it pawed at the silver embedded into it’s throat had him let out a breath of relief as well as a small smile of satisfaction, he had actually managed to hit a werewolf. Not only that he’d given Geralt time to get his bearings, both him and his wolf having dispatched the other wolves that had come to the call of aid from the werewolf.

His victory didn’t last long though as in what felt like a matter of seconds suddenly the beast was staring him down, yet he couldn’t bring himself to move away.

The next thing he knew the beast leaped at him, curling himself up a little to give some semblance of protection, but he knew he likely only had a few seconds to live when the beast got a hold of him, but the blow never came.

When he looked back in front of him he saw Geralt stood between them, the wolf now letting out large pants as it stared down the witcher and limped on one of its front legs. Everything then seemed to happen in a blur, he saw flame shoot out from Geralt’s hand and heard the wolf growl and howl at the fact. 

Suddenly the werewolf twisted away from Geralt and he saw his wolf at its back, teeth gripped into its hind leg and panic started to fill him as he saw the werewolf strike at his animal, luckily the hit didn’t land, barely. In the next breath, Geralt swung his sword and the werewolf fell to the floor, giving a couple of pitiful growls before the forest around them was silent.

As soon as the wolf was down he was running up to the witcher, eager to assess whatever injuries the man may have but as before Geralt pulled away from him.

“Geralt, are you alright?”

“Why didn’t you leave when I told you too” He’s somewhat put out by the anger he can hear in the witcher's voice, he and his wolf was likely the reason Geralt wasn’t being mauled to death.

“I wanted to help” He grimaced at how pitiful, how pathetic, his voice sounded then as if he had been in the wrong though he wouldn’t hesitate to do again if it meant saving Geralt from his own stupidity.

“You could’ve been hurt Jaskier, you could’ve died”

He took a couple of steps closer then, relieved when Geralt didn’t try to move away from him barely holding back the hand that wanted to pull the other man closer to him, to look him over and make sure he was actually okay “I had to do something, I couldn’t just run away and let you get mauled by a glorified wolf”

He heard Geralt let out a sigh but still the witcher made no attempt to move and once again he became worried that something was wrong with him.

“C’mon Geralt, let's go back to the inn. I know there’ll be a warm bath and some hot food waiting for you” He tried to be cheerful to ease the other man who seemed tense and on edge despite the fight being over now, but still Geralt stood there refusing to look at him.

“Go on ahead, I’ll meet you up there later” His tone left no room for argument, but he wasn’t content with the answer.

He simply folded his hands across his chest to show his displeasure, even if Geralt couldn’t see it “No”

“No?”

“No, I’m not leaving without you”

“Can’t you just do as I say for once” The resignation in Geralt’s voice made his heart twist, and it just solidified the fact that he couldn’t leave just yet.

“I know something is wrong Geralt and I won’t leave until you tell me what it is” There’s a pause then, the air around them deafeningly silent until suddenly Geralt is in his face and instead of the yellow eyes he quickly grew to love, he’s met with pitch black.

“I’m what’s wrong Jaskier” 

The admission causes his heart to clench and what made it even worse was that Geralt did nothing but stare at him, almost as if he was expecting him to turn tail and run at any moment. Slowly he raised his hand, giving Geralt a chance to move away if he wanted to, but when he didn’t he kept moving until finally it cupped the witcher’s cheek.

He’s not surprised that Geralt flinched away from the touch at first, but he doesn’t give up, moving his hand to rest on his cheek again so that his thumb could rub at the dark veins trailing from his even darker eyes, their gaze never leaving one another.

For a moment he does nothing but trace his knuckles across pale skin, so pale he would think the witcher dead if he wasn’t stood in front him, and he quickly dismissed the thought as soon as it came.

“Does it hurt?” He doesn’t fully realize he’d spoken, the words barely uttered into the silence between them, but the only answer he got was Geralt hanging his head down a little to avoid his gaze, that being all the answer he needed.

He goes to move his hand away, the two of them should really leave this clearing and have this discussion after they’ve had a chance to clear heads from the fight, but as he did so he caught the way Geralt’s head followed his hand a little, almost as if he wanted to keep that touch just a bit longer.

That action probably had him fall even deeper in love with the witcher and made his heart break all at once and he quickly pulled the witcher into a hug. He ignored the way Geralt froze up at the touch, instead he moved a hand up into his long hair, his nails gently scratching at the nape of his neck, a touch that had always comforted him in the past. 

Slowly but surely the witcher began to mold his body against him, Geralt’s head now resting in the crook of his neck, as he ignored the way the witcher would nose at his throat and hair, almost as if he was scenting him.

Under normal circumstances he would probably find himself getting a little hot under the collar at such an action, and whilst he filed this memory away for later, he kept the witcher close against him to try and offer what little comfort he could.

“I dunno how the whole eye thing works but I brought your cloak with me and left it with Roach, we’ll go back to her, you wrap up and when we get to town you sneak up to the room and I’ll sort everything else out, okay?”

The hum in response has a shiver go down his spine, but before he can recover Geralt is saying thank you, his lips ghosting across the skin of his neck that has him letting out his own involuntary hum, more of a moan if he was honest, but then suddenly they’re pulling away from each other.

They don’t fully move away from the other, his hand is still stroking the hair at the nape of Geralt’s neck and said man’s arms had come to rest at his hips, both of them just staring at one another, his eyes flicking down when he saw Geralt lick his lips.

He always knew himself a weak man and he has to put in all of his willpower to not separate the small distance between them and press their lips together, only when he looked up, even with his eyes pitch black, he can tell Geralt had been staring at his own lips as well. The thought made his head rush and his heart beat faster, normally he might feel a bit embarrassed as he knew Geralt could hear it, but right now, with the space between them slowly shrinking he can’t bring himself to care.

They’re both so close to one another that he can feel Geralt’s breath against his lips and yet they’re still so far away, eager to just give up the pretense and lean forward so that they can finally kiss. Only his plan is thwarted when a flap of wings at his face has him pull away and suddenly his wolf is pushing between him and Geralt and there aren’t enough curse words in the world to scream in his head, all while he threw heated glares at the animals in question.

Apparently, he was the only one bothered by the interruption, with whatever between them suddenly broken Geralt had moved off to take the head of the werewolf and carry it back to the town, barely able to make out the gentle conversation he had started with the lark now nestled against his neck.

Geralt simply brushed past him without a word as if nothing had just happened and he can’t help but feel a sense of resignation, maybe they just weren’t to be, especially if their animals had interfered. That was just the lover in him, the part that was completely and utterly obsessed with everything Geralt and would do anything to help him, even if he got hurt from it, but even so, the more logical side of him said that the witcher was clearly not in his right mind as shown by pitch-black eyes and it would be wrong to take advantage of him like that.

At least that’s what he told himself to soothe the part of him that ached after the man still walking through the forest ahead of him, and he was definitely going to ignore the way that Geralt had clung to him, hell he had even scented him, and they had been a hairsbreadth from finally, finally, kissing.

He quickly stopped that school of thought, obsessing over it would get him nowhere, so it was with a sigh that he walked back to the fallen werewolf to tug out his knife still embedded in its throat and with a grimace wiped it onto the forest floor.

When he stood back up, even in the dark he could see Geralt a little way ahead, having stopped to wait for him to catch up and the consideration had a small smile pull at his lips.

“I’m fucked aren’t I” He wasn’t necessarily talking to anyone but the bump of his wolf's head against his hand only seemed to reaffirm his statement.

It was with a sigh he started to walk, watching as his wolf trotted ahead to walk beside Geralt and offer him the same comfort the wolf had gifted him, and he couldn’t stop the way his breath caught when he saw Geralt stroke a hand through the white fur.

The sight was sickeningly endearing, in the past the witcher having had as little interaction with the wolf as possible, but now he seemed to be somewhat more accepting of the animal, and in a way, himself as well given what had almost happened only moments ago. 

It was unlikely that Geralt believed in them being soulmates just yet, but he felt progress had definitely been made between them and under the cover of moonlight made a silent promise to go on more hunts in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say, I'm a sucker for BAMF Jaskier


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it really a slow burn if there isn't a hint of angst?

Month five into his adventure with Geralt and any progress to convince him they were soulmates had come to a firm halt. After that hunt all those moons ago where he’d rather impressively struck a werewolf, even if Geralt didn’t consider it an achievement, things had changed a little.

No longer did the witcher shy from his touch, at least in private anyway. It started with small tugs on the arm that lasted slightly longer than necessary to washing Geralt’s hair when it was absolutely filthy and even when it wasn’t. Hell even after some guidance from the witcher he’d taken to stitching up some of the more serious of his wounds, and if a hand strayed a little every now and then Geralt said nothing of it. 

Small actions that slowly built up until every other night he had the witcher under him so that he could ease the tension from world-weary shoulders, and if he heard the odd moan from the man below him, he kept that to himself.

But it wasn’t enough, not anymore. Admittedly he was being selfish, he had no right to demand anything of Geralt, but the way they danced around one another would have to end at some point and he would rather it be sooner than later.

It’s not like it was all one-sided, despite what he thought most of the time, there was one colorful evening where Geralt had returned from a contract and in their thanks, the locals had plied the witcher with beer and spirits. Even with his enhanced metabolism the witcher was definitely a bit tipsy by the time he carried him up to their shared room, and after depositing him in the bed he’d been pulled down by a strong hand and suddenly Geralt was kissing him.

The action caught him off guard and he barely stopped himself from falling onto the other man, but before he could even think of reciprocating Geralt was pulling away with a small hum and what may have been a small smile before turning to go to sleep. The next ten minutes were spent still leaned over witcher and trying to figure out what the actual hell had just happened and cursing himself for not doing anything more.

Any attempt to subtly bring it up the next morning went over the witcher's head and it seemed that he remembered little about what happened towards the end of the evening. He’s sure he could conduct full philosophical debates on whether that was true or not, but he let the matter rest, a kinda drunk Geralt had kissed him, so surely that meant that everyday Geralt felt something for him.

But that had been almost a month ago and any attempt to have the witcher kiss him again was thus far unsuccessful and as the days wore on, with each side-eye or grating remark from Geralt had him further consider why he followed him if he wasn’t wanted. 

Whilst he believed they were soulmates, Geralt still refuted the claim and promptly stopped any discussion about it. If he was a stronger man he may have left the witcher long ago, sick of trailing after him like a lovesick puppy and have Geralt chase after him for once, but he was almost certain that if he did so he would never see the white wolf again and he wasn’t prepared to lose him entirely just yet.

Not just that but he’s sure his wolf would practically drag him alongside the witcher instead of them leave, and whilst he appreciated his wolf’s belief in them, his own was starting to wane.

He didn’t have time to worry about that now though, instead all of his attention was spent on not dying.

It was a routine contract, Geralt had been given a monster or 7 in this case, drowners if he remembered and he’d secretly tagged along as he always did now. The hunt itself had been fine, it was when they went to collect Geralt’s pay that things got messy. Whilst the witcher was willing to let his work go unrewarded, or at least so underpaid he may as well not be, he couldn’t let the mayor get away with this slight against Geralt.

He may have let his mouth run a bit and enjoyed watching the outrage color the mayors face as he spit vitriol at the poor excuse of a man in question, shrugging off Geralt’s hand on his shoulder and his insistence that he stop. His reward for doing so consisted of a curse that currently rendered him throat to close up and pain to course through him.

The pain in his gut was unlike anything he had felt, and he would have collapsed from the sheer agony of it if it wasn’t for Geralt who quickly lifted him up, a promise of revenge on the witcher's lips even as he was carried out of the small manor. Normally he’d be beside himself at the witchers affection, but the blood he was currently coughing up put a damper on his celebration.

The last thing he remembered was being placed onto Roach and Geralt swinging up behind him with two strong arms wrapping around his sides, barely making out the plea from behind him to simply stay alive. 

From there he flitted in and out of consciousness, probably due to the small lark nestled on his shoulder that would shrill and nip at his ear and neck, anything to keep him awake he guessed but as much as he wanted to keep his eyes open he was grateful for the times he could simply pass out to get a respite, however brief, from the pain. 

He didn’t know how long it had been, whether night had come and gone or whether a week had passed. All he knew was that the pain worsened with every breath he took, and he was sure he was nearing his death bed. 

He tried to talk, to tell Geralt he was sorry, to tell him that he loved him, that he hoped he’d find someone to love eventually even if it wasn’t him, but any attempt to speak had him being shushed by the witcher and he’s sure he could feel Roach spurred to run even faster.

At some point, he felt them come to a stop and suddenly he’s in Geralt’s arms, and isn’t that a dream come true, at least it was until he started coughing, harsh and abrasive against his throat accompanied with the taste of blood on his tongue before he felt faint.

“Don’t you dare die on me now bard” Despite the pain that rendered him immobile he smiled all the same at the concern, dare he say panic, edged in Geralt’s voice.

He can feel himself begin to slip into unconsciousness again when another voice, a woman, one he hasn’t heard before is suddenly in front of him and suddenly he’s clawing to keep awake.

“Geralt, it’s been too long, what brings you to me this time? Another farmhand trying to play the hero?” 

Another? So Geralt knew this person and the thought settled uncomfortably in him for a moment until another stab of pain had him gasping for air that was getting harder to breathe.

“We need your help, he’s-“

“We? Just a friend I hope” If there wasn’t already a coiling uncomfortable pain in his stomach he’s sure this comment would have caused it, only assured by the minute growl he could hear from Geralt and the louder one from his wolf he could hear behind them.

“Not now Yen, he’s been cursed, can you help him?” There’s a pause then and whilst he doesn’t feel her touch he can feel something decidedly cool wash over him for a moment, a balm for the searing pain that had settled in him what felt like weeks ago, but before he could finally relax the pain came back with a brutish force that knocked the air out of him.

“Follow me”

However long it took he can soon feel himself being put into a bed and suddenly there are hands on him, moving him this way and that and he’s sure he has something wiped on his throat and then there are words he doesn’t recognize, words that sound wrong in a voice so soft but then there’s nothing.

The pain is gone, and he can finally breathe again, he wanted to get up, to run to Geralt and bring him into a hug and tell him everything he’d wanted to on the journey here and yet he couldn’t move. 

He felt tired, like all the energy had been sapped from every fiber of his being and a part of him thought if this was just his body recovering from the curse or if it was some spell, probably both as he let out a small sigh of relief as he felt the head of his wolf nestle on his lap. He wanted more than anything then to raise a hand and assure the animal that he was alright and thank it for looking after him once again, but the small nibble of teeth at his wrist told him the wolf already knew and he would’ve smiled had he the energy.

Needless to say, he could quite easily fall asleep now, the only thing that stopped him was the sound of Geralt’s voice in the room “And he’ll be fine?”

“Yes he’ll be fine” He heard shuffling then, oh what he wouldn’t give to see what was happening then. He knew he had no right to be jealous, Geralt wasn’t his technically and she had just saved his life, but it was clear the two had a history and he was torn about whether to just let his body succumb to sleep and remain oblivious or see what happened between the two of them

The choice was made for him at the murmured “You look good Geralt” as he actively fought the pull dragging him to sleep “Although I imagine you have a few extra scars since we last spoke, I can-“

“Now’s not the time” He could hear the slight irritation in Geralt’s voice, even half-dead he could read the witcher like a book and the thought soothed him a little.

“Playing coy doesn’t suit you” From the small grunt from Geralt he assumed she must have done something, maybe sidled up beside, or stroked a hand through his hair, or lowered a hand to his-“Come, we can catch up whilst we bathe and get that muck off of you and you can tell me about this ‘not friend’ of yours”

The sound of two pairs of footsteps leaving the room and the sound of a door shutting is enough to have him let out the shaky breath he was holding. The woman Geralt clearly had a history with, were likely lovers in the past had left to go bathe together and the faint sound of her laughter filtering through the room is more painful than what the curse did to him.

Suddenly any desire to rest is gone, not wanting to listen to anything else that will happen in the room next door lest his heart physically break, replaying the conversation in his head and the implications behind it are enough to steel his resolve and do something he should have done months ago.

Pushing aside the fatigue settled deep in his bones he goes to sit up, only stopped briefly by a heavy paw on his chest and he looked up to see yellow eyes peering down at him, the command to stay evident but he argued his own case with what he hoped the wolf could see was pain and resignation in his eyes.

In the end, the wolf relented and hopped off the bed beside him whilst he moved to sit up, the room spun around him a little and only steadied when he grabbed a handful of the white fur in front of him. Carefully he stood, his legs giving out a little beneath him and he was only stopped from crumpling to the floor by the nudge of his wolf back onto the bed.

The next time he tried he managed to stand, and he kept a hand in the wolfs fur as he began to shuffle his way out of the room and hopefully out of this town, away from the one person he’d wasted the last few months on, who clearly didn’t want him.

How could he have been so stupid, a witcher having a soulmate was as likely as him sprouting a second head and he’d practically jumped at the man and handed his heart to him at first glance. It was embarrassing really and look where it got him, half stumbling out of some house in some town whilst said witcher was likely fucking some beautiful sorceress.

The thought made his gut churn and he’s sure if he had any food in his stomach he would have thrown it up, but all he could do was grimace as he slowly made his way down the corridor, resting his weight both on his wolf and on the walls to try and speed up his progress. 

With barely another step suddenly he felt hands on him, turning him and he didn’t have the energy to fight back, but the sight of Geralt had him relax and then quickly cursing himself for the relief he got at the sight of the man.

“Jaskier what the fuck are you doing?” The hands roaming his body, likely checking him for injury, help relaxed him and he happily leaned into the touch even though he still berated himself for allowing him this one moment.

“ ’m graciously riddin’ mysel’ from your presences so you can ‘ave fun with her” He’s surprised he managed to even pull the sentence together, even if it was a bit slurred and he tried to pull away from the warm touch of Geralt’s hands still on him, but then those hands are gripping his hip and shoulder and trying to drag him back.

“Jaskier you almost died; you’re not going anywhere like this”

“You never wanted me anyway so jus’ lemme go” The pained expression that briefly flitted across Geralt’s face gave him some satisfaction, even if he suddenly had the overwhelming to comfort the other man.

“You can be such an idiot sometimes, please just come back” He’d never heard Geralt say please to him before and he wanted to listen, to let Geralt drag him back to the bed, the witcher’s hands now gently stroked across his sides and back making it all the more alluring and it’s only when he looked again that he noted that Geralt was without a shirt.

“You never took your shirt off for me” He doesn’t know why he said it, likely cause he was currently struggling to even stand and have this slurred conversation in the first place, but he can’t hide the hurt in his voice either.

“Jaskier-“

“You can with her and not with me”

“It’s just a bath Jaskier” He couldn’t help his small snort at the answer, yeah right it was just a bath “Besides I let you bathe me, massage me, and rub whatever that fucking oil was on my ass”

He smiled a little at the memory, unable to keep back the wistful note to his voice as he said “Chamomile” and was that a smile on Geralt’s face?

“Please come back to bed and rest, we can talk about this tomorrow” The offer was a tempting one, especially as he was currently fighting to keep his eyes open and was slowly leaning more onto his wolf, although the animal didn’t complain, yet. 

He cast a brief look down the hall and thought of where he planned to go after, needless to say, all he could think of was forest and path which wasn’t the best idea in his current state until suddenly Geralt’s voice broke his musings. “If you leave I’m going out after you and I will drag you back here”

The tone of voice didn’t allow for an argument, not that he planned to, but he couldn’t help but mumble “Makes a change for once” before he sluggishly nodded his head and was that guilt on Geralt’s face?

He decided to ignore it, instead intent on turning back and taking himself back to bed with the little strength he had just to show that he didn’t need the witcher, but that choice was taken from him as Geralt leaned down and picked him up as a man would his bride. All fight left him then and he managed to loosely wrap an arm around the witcher’s shoulder and bury his head into the crook of his neck, enjoying the moment as much as he could as he was slowly carried back to the bed.

He’s sure he must already be dreaming when he heard what almost seemed like a purr coming from the witchers chest, not just that but in his barely conscious state he’s sure he could feel Geralt nosing into his hair, he definitely had to be dreaming or dead, either way, it felt good to have the man’s attention.

By the time he’s placed back into the bed, barely registering the warmth on his side that he was sure was his wolf coming to lay beside him again, he’s practically asleep. He fought slipping entirely at the feel of a calloused hand brushing through his hair for a moment before coming to rest on his cheek, the touch warm and comforting only interrupted by what felt like the gentle press of lips on his forehead.

If he wasn’t practically half dead right now he’s sure his heart would be going a mile a minute at such a show of affection from the witcher, hell he wanted to pull Geralt closer to him, to wrap his arms around him and pull him into the bed with him so that he could be held in a warm embrace for the night, but instead he had to settle for this.

Then he heard the sound of wood scraping against wood and then a creak as weight settled into what was likely a chair, and he knew Geralt was sat beside him, watching over him as he slept and he finally gave up trying to stay awake, safe in the knowledge he was being watched over by his white wolf and his witcher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this house we love and respect Yennefer, just give her a chapter


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kind of hate the start and love the end of this chapter and it may be 4 am so forgive any mistakes please.

It’s with a groan that he slowly started to come back to himself, taking the time just to appreciate that he was actually alive and not dead in a ditch somewhere, but the sound of movement beside him had him slowly open his eyes.

The sight of Geralt sat beside the bed, his hands wringing themselves as if he itched to get a hand on him and the mixture of worry and relief on the witcher’s face had a small smile appear on his own.

“Hey” His voice was whispered and raspy and he can’t help but wince at the pain when he spoke, but then suddenly Geralt is quieting him as he felt hands move his otherwise lax body into a seated position.

“For once you’ll have to keep quiet to help your throat recover”

“Enjoy it while you can” He winced again as he spoke but what was worse was the frown that came across Geralt’s face then, the witcher had always stated he spoke too much in the past but maybe the curse hit affected him worse than he thought.

“Do you want a drink?” This time he simply nodded, and although slow to try and reach for the cup Geralt was sure to offer him, what surprised him most was the fact that the witcher ignored his efforts entirely. Instead, he felt a warm hand cup the back of his head and gently tilt it back whilst the other hand held the cup to his lips, carefully offering him the water that he gratefully drank up. Even more surprising was the way Geralt’s thumb brushed his lip with his thumb to clear the water from it, decidedly intimate but he decided it would do him no favors to comment on it.

“You’ve been asleep for about a day and a half, but we’re going to stay here for a few more days to let you rest properly” He nodded again, this time offering the witcher a small smile which was somewhat returned, but even so he could still see the guilt on his face, something Geralt was apparently conscious of as he quickly got off of the chair and promptly stalked towards the door of his room, stopping just before he left “You feel well enough to eat?”

Given that Geralt still had his back to him he rubbed his throat a little to try and soothe it before he spoke “Yeah sure” 

He then pulled the covers off of himself and with considerable effort moved so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, intent to follow after the witcher for a source of food, eyes looking for his wolf knowing that he’d need its support, but then hands were on him again trying to get him back into the bed.

“I told you to rest didn’t I?” He almost wanted to laugh at the way Geralt chided him, not dissimilar to a parent with it’s a child, and he would have if his throat didn’t feel like he had swallowed glass.

“Since when have I listened to you” The huff from Geralt earned him a smile, which was more than worth the pain to talk as he renewed his efforts to get out of the bed “Besides I’ve been in bed for two days, I want to move around lest I get too comfortable lounging all day”

He knew he was being dramatic and the dubious hum he got from Geralt told him the witcher thought so too, but he already knew that he had won. Ready to try and leave the bed a second time, he tried not to focus on the fact that Geralt’s hands were still on his chest, they were still now after the effort to keep him in bed, but the touch may as well be burning a hole through his shirt.

Apparently sensing his struggle Geralt gave him a final once over and he tried not to squirm under the witcher's gaze before suddenly he was being lifted out of the bed with as if he weighed nothing, and he was definitely noting that information for later. The only thing he could do was scramble to get a hold on Geralt’s shoulders and then he was being carried out of the room and presumably towards the kitchen.

“You could at least warn a guy Geralt” The other man’s grunt just told him that the witcher didn’t actually care about what he thought of the treatment, just as well he enjoyed it then ”and I was perfectly capable of making it here by myself” 

He couldn’t help but smile at the raised eyebrow the witcher gave him, challenging his claim that he knew was probably only half true. Either way, he was brought into the kitchen, a big open area that was clearly used to having a lot of staff bustling around throughout the day and yet it was somewhat eerie that it was just the two of them.

Carefully he was placed into a chair by the table, silently pleased at the care Geralt was showing him, sure the witcher showed his attentiveness in other ways but he was almost tempted to play up his fatigue for longer to keep his attention.

He looked around the room as Geralt left to retrieve food, and whilst he said he had been hungry, the truth was that he more so wanted to stay at the witcher’s side, but he’d try his best to eat what was put in front of him regardless.

The feel of something cold and wet nudge at his arm startled him and he turned to see his wolf staring at him expectantly and gave it a soft smile, but just before he could bring a hand up to pet it suddenly wings were in his face and a shrill noise in his ear.

Despite the ‘attack’ he couldn’t help but laugh as he felt Geralt’s lark hug against his neck, seemingly glad that he was still alive, before moving down to his lap to stare at his stomach as if inspecting his previous injury. How the bird had any idea about where his injuries were was probably far beyond his understanding but nevertheless, he offered a hand out to the lark on the table and watched with a smile as it settled into his touch.

That’s how Geralt found him, one hand stroking his wolf’s head, who was now sat beside him, and the other stroking the small lark that was struggling to contain its excitement as it begged for more of his attention. The small smile he saw flash briefly on Geralt’s face he quickly committed to memory, it was rare he saw such genuine happiness from the witcher, and he watched as said man sat in the chair beside him, placing some bread and what smelt like some sort of broth in front of him.

He could already tell that Geralt wanted to help him eat but he was keen to show that he truly was alright so after he removed the hand from the lark, who quickly joined Geralt on his shoulder, both of them watching him attentively now, he reached for the bowl and the spoon within it. It was true he felt better and he’s sure that in a few hours he could quite easily be walking around the house, well more of a manor, but right now he couldn’t stop the way his hand shook as he brought the spoon to his mouth, his body still fighting the curse and healing spell that had rendered him immobile. 

It was a small blessing that he didn’t actually spill any of the broth over himself, but his next attempt was quickly intercepted by Geralt’s who took both the bowl and spoon from him and putting it back onto the table. Before he could question the action suddenly his chair was being pulled closer to the witcher, unable to keep back his short yelp from the movement until his legs were moved to lay across the witcher's lap, bringing them even closer together but still on their respective chairs.

At that point it would have been easier, and likely more comfortable, to sit in Geralt’s lap but he didn’t question the witcher's motives as suddenly a spoon was insistently being pressed against his mouth and he had no choice but to accept the food being offered to him.

They continue on like that for several minutes, neither of them saying anything as he let Geralt feed him, stopping every now and then to break off a piece of bread to dip in the broth and offering that to him instead. A couple of times he managed to pull off small bits of the bread and left them in his palm, a silent offering that had him smile when he saw the lark fly back to his hand to accept.

It was strange to say but he felt content, as if this was how they were meant to be, except preferably without the life-threatening curse, but he was brought out of that thought when he saw Geralt stare pointedly at the door out of the kitchen.

When he turned to look there was nothing there but a couple of mouthfuls later and he could hear footsteps approaching them, unable to stop the way he tensed at the prospect of an intruder, but Geralt didn’t seem bothered so that fact allowed him to relax but a little.

Again he turned and this time he was met with the sight of a woman who could be called nothing but beautiful, her dress clung to her in a way which left no doubt to the body under it with dark hair that framed her face nicely and emphasized the striking violet of her eyes, a smile teased at her lips as she looked down at them.

Suddenly everything came back to him now, the frighteningly beautiful voice able to cast spells and charms, the same voice who had saved his life, but who had also teased with Geralt on their past, who had laughed at something he had said when they went to bathe together and suddenly all the air was knocked out of him.

He could only guess at the history between the two of them, but he’s reminded of his realization previously and of his attempt to leave, of Geralt chasing after him and carrying him back to bed to act as a guard as he slept. It wasn’t that he blamed Geralt, she was unlike anyone he had seen before and under different circumstances he may have tried his luck at getting her into his bed, not to mention that from what he’d been told the witcher had only been united with his spirit animal a few months before they had met.

So yes, he couldn’t blame Geralt for taking comfort with her however he saw fit, but it didn’t hurt the ache in his heart any less.

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his musings and he saw Geralt give him a knowing and apologetic look, and for the first time he found he couldn’t keep the stare of the witcher, instead, he turned away to lay a hand on his wolf who had maneuvered closer to him in light of their new guest.

“Morning boys” He saw Geralt glare at the woman, Yen if he remembered although that night seemed almost like a distant dream now and he was somewhat comforted at the fact, even as he saw her smirk as she walked past them and to the other side of the kitchen.

Geralt had tried to resume feeding him then but any desire to eat had left him at the sight of the sorceress and thankfully the witcher didn’t push the matter, instead, he watched as Geralt quickly finished what was left of the food he’d brought before an uncomfortable silence filled the room.

He’d forgotten about the position he and Geralt were in, having otherwise been preoccupied by the witcher taking the time and care to feed him, but as he saw the woman’s gaze fixate on his legs stretched across Geralt’s lap it was all he could focus on. He did try to pull his legs away, not wanting to be the subject of ire from the witch who could no doubt kill him with a look, but a strong hand on his legs kept him place, Geralt’s grip firm and unrelenting as he turned to look up at the woman who had taken to rest a hand on the witcher’s shoulder as if they were lifelong friends.

“I’m going out to the market today; do you need anything?”

“No” He almost smiled at the deep sigh Yen gave at the answer, having been in the exact place she currently was many a time.

“You always say no and then use up my stores to make your potions so, again, do you need anything?”

“Dog tallow and honeysuckle if they have it”

“That wasn’t so hard was it” Geralt just grunted in response and with a sigh she turned, giving a flick of her wrist and suddenly the wind of a portal was creating a mess of the kitchen before just as abruptly it was gone and the woman went with it, leaving nothing but silence behind.

Almost as soon as she was gone Geralt turned to him, concern in his eyes “How are you feeling?”

He knew Geralt was offering him a chance to bring up what had happened that night but he wasn’t ready just yet and instead took a moment just to feel, to feel the slight ache of pain still in his gut, an echo of what it was before and the pull of sleep still tugging at his eyes. He felt exhausted if he were honest, sluggish almost and as he moved his gaze back to Geralt, the witcher seemed to already know his answer.

“Bed sound good to you?” He was oh so tempted to make a joke about Geralt propositioning him for other activities that occur in the bedroom, and whilst he could taste the words on his tongue his mouth felt dry as cotton which left him only able to nod.

He doesn’t know what he expected, but he didn’t expect Geralt to then pull him onto his lap, only able to take a moment to appreciate how close they were, of the faint smell of dirt and leather that always seemed to cling to the witcher, not that he was complaining. Their eyes connected for a moment, the air charged around them, and it would have been so easy to just lean forward to press their lips together, but then Geralt is standing with a grunt and he’s being carried back to his room.

He half expected to be put into the bed and for the witcher to then leave him alone to fall asleep whilst he left to do any witchery things that needed doing, and whilst it’s true Geralt left it was only to retrieve more water and his swords. He lifted his eyebrow a little at the latter but once again he let Geralt handle him as he drank before he was given his answer with the sound of a whetstone scraping across metal.

The sound was comforting in a weird way, something familiar when they traveled to fill up the silence late at night whilst everyone and everything around them slept and he closed his eyes as he let the sound lull him further into sleep.

Whilst his body was quite ready to sleep, his mind was not and he can’t help but turn over the last few days events in his head, of the panic from Geralt that had him run Roach ragged to get him here, panic for his wellbeing, and he knew he couldn’t sleep just yet.

“Thank you, Geralt” Despite the water and the earlier conversation, however brief, his voice was still a little hoarse and he can’t help but wince at it, but he continued anyway “Thanks for saving me”

There was a beat of silence then and he’s sure Geralt must be staring at him but soon the sound of swords being sharpened starts up again and he relaxed a little more, even more so when he heard the faint grunt from the witcher “Next time don’t be a fool and anger the town’s mayor”

“You know I can’t promise that” He heard a small chuckle then, and as before when he saw the witcher smile, he opened his eyes so he could commit the sight to memory, but as he looked over the witchers face he noted haw pale and haggard he looked and the hint of darker rings under his eyes. Sure Geralt didn’t need as much sleep and could go a couple of days without it but the last time he remembered the witcher actually sleeping was almost a week ago now and he couldn’t help but frown at the fact “When did you last sleep? Or meditate at least?”

The way that Geralt averted his gaze to return to his task was answer enough and he barely heard the expected ‘I’m a witcher I don’t need as much sleep’ spiel as he just aimed a pointed gaze at the witcher who just gave him a gruff sigh in reply “I’m fine Jaskier, you need to sleep though”

“What ‘bout you? I know you need to sleep too” The pull of sleep only got stronger and he could hear the slight slur in his words but still he couldn’t keep his eyes off of the witcher who decided then to get up and leave, a decision he wasn’t too happy with “Stay?”

It was a small word, a simple one as well but the weight of it felt heavy on his heart, a silent offer to help bridge what seemed like a chasm between them, all the while he silently pleaded that it would be accepted. 

He could just about make out the nod from the witcher and he felt his breath leave him in relief, he could only keep his eyes open long enough to watch him prop his swords by the door, but he could still hear him move through the room.

Then it was silent, and he could envisage the witcher stood at the foot of the bed debating on what to do. He was about to say something as he expected Geralt to return to the chair at his bedside, the witcher no doubt stating he could sleep anywhere, but then the space on the bed beside him started to dip and he had to hide his excitement as Geralt settled beside him, barely noting that his wolf slipped off the bed to give them more space.

It’s not that they haven’t shared a bed before, it was cheaper to get one bed on the nights they spend indoors and when outside with the wind howling around them he relied on the witcher’s warmth to keep him alive, but it felt different now, foreign in a good way and he felt something pleasant curl in his chest at the fact.

He could just about turn his head and opened his eyes to see Geralt stare at him, an almost sheepish look on his face “Is this alright? I can go-“

“Don’t be an idiot, nothing we haven’t done before” He saw the witcher relax only a little but he’s too tired to worry about his internal battle, he knew that Geralt would only truly relax once he was asleep, knowing that he was safe.

Still, having Geralt toss and turn beside him was distracting to say the least and he’s not used to this much movement from the witcher, hearing his little sighs and huffs every now and then until finally something in him snapped. Without warning he turned so that he could flop himself on top of Geralt, pinning him in place as he buried his head into his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his chest.

For a moment he himself panicked the longer Geralt remained frozen after his action, a part of him thought the witcher would have had enough and pushed him off to leave for a different bed within the manor, but instead, he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and Geralt once again nosing along his hair with a sigh, something that was new between them but he didn’t mind, it was cute in a way.

He opened his eyes briefly, blurry with sleep so he could only half make out the sight of his wolf on the floor beside him, Geralt’s lark resting between its shoulder blades, and he couldn’t help but note how they were in practically the same position, him on top of Geralt whilst they slept.

The fact brought a small smile to his lips and he buried his head just a little further up Geralt’s shoulder to rest in the crook of the witcher’s neck, noting the steady heartbeat under him and the even steadier breathing that showed Geralt was already asleep before he let sleep succumb him.

*********

It’s the next day when he slowly came back to himself, at least he thought it was the next day and with it, gone was the ache that had stayed in his gut yesterday and after a cup of water he was ready to break out into song.

Simply happy to not be incapacitated in bed he practically bounded out of it, much to Geralt’s chagrin, but not bad enough that he didn’t see the small smile on the witcher’s face as he eagerly took in the room around him noting all the finery and detail, giving a small hum in appreciation.

“Feeling better I take it” He looked then to the witcher who was propped up on an elbow staring at him, and with the way that the sunlight filtered through the curtains, bringing out the gold of his eyes, it made the witcher look downright decadent, not that he would ever say it out loud.

“Ah yes, it appears the dutiful care of a witcher and sleeping in his bed was the perfect remedy for a curse hangover” It was somewhat cute the way that Geralt cast his eyes down at the praise as if he were embarrassed, and if he had been human he’s sure the witcher would be blushing.

Whatever Geralt then planned to say was interrupted by the lark who then decided to grace them with its song, leaving its place on his wolf to stand on Geralt’s chest, unable to keep back his smile as the witcher brought a hand up to stroke through its feathers. Instinctively he reached for his lute and played a few test chords, it was a little out of tune, but he doubted his private audience would even know it and he quickly launched into his song detailing the witcher’s scars a couple of which he could see peak out of the collar of Geralt’s undershirt.

Immediately Geralt groaned and settled back into the bed, all the while his lark remained on his chest as it sang along with him and he definitely couldn’t keep back his smile as he made his way over to the bed and sat on the edge, virtually serenading the witcher who only gave him a heated glare in return. Sure the song was somewhat exaggerated, maybe very exaggerated, but they were running low on coin at the time and the stories Geralt told him just simply wasn’t good storytelling, needless to say, it definitely earned them enough for food and a bed for a couple of nights, which naturally, the witcher never thanked him for.

He paused for a moment when his wolf decided to join them on the bed, jumping over Geralt’s prone form and sparing him a glance before it lay beside the witcher. He couldn’t help but feel the small stab of betrayal at the animal’s actions, but he was used to it avoiding him when he sang. That feeling left when he saw Geralt immediately move his free hand to stroke along the wolf’s back, diverting briefly to scratch behind its ears, and he could see the contentment on the animal’s face at the treatment.

“How have you coped all these years hmm?” He stopped playing when he heard Geralt talk to the wolf, about to give some rebuttal when he saw the playful smirk on Geralt’s face, golden eyes glanced at him briefly before the wolf was nudging at the witcher’s hand in answer “You’ll have to teach me your tricks then”

All he could do was let out a huff, utterly endeared by the sight of Geralt using his wolf to tease him and he almost wished every morning could start like this. He stared at them a moment longer, his lute forgotten as he watched Geralt trying to give equal attention to both animals, a hard feat given that the lark would peck at the witchers chest or move to tug at his long hair if there wasn’t always at least a hand on it.

He gently placed the lute down on the bed before he got up, barely sparing a glance at the witcher as he told him he was going in search of breakfast, but before he could even step past the threshold Geralt is there behind him, still in his clothes from the night before, but a quick look down told him his were the same since the night he’d been cursed, blood staining the front of it that left it good and ruined.

Whilst normally he would care about being somewhat presentable no matter if it were in public or private, right now he couldn’t bring himself to care, all he wanted was food and maybe the day with Geralt just to relax and do nothing for once, and maybe by the end finally talk about what was actually going on between them.

It was a fair plan he thought, quickly dashed by the sight of the witch seated at the table when they entered the kitchen, and just by the look in her eyes he knew that they had been roped in for some kind of job.

Sure enough, he had only just sat down when the woman focussed her stare on the witcher, the two of them in a sort of standoff which left him helpless but to watch.

“The town over has a contract for you, simple enough for a witcher with your skill, a couple of bruxae but the pay is good, even haggled a little extra for the famed white wolf”

He watched as Geralt folded his arms, it had barely been five minutes and he was already irritated “A contract for me or for any witcher” 

He saw the woman roll her eyes, it was clear that Geralt didn’t want to go but they all knew he would, still he supposed the witcher was allowed to be annoyed at the fact “Geralt-“

“No I know, I’ll go, just let me grab my things” 

As the witcher turned to leave he stood up from his chair, eager to follow after him when a firm hand on his chest had him sit back down.

“No you’re staying, you still need to rest and I won’t risk you coming out with me” He could only frown as the witcher stalked out of the room as quietly as he had come in, leaving nothing but an air of tension behind him as he was helpless but to stare at the woman in front of him.

It occurred to him then that his whole reason for being there was for food and not a second later the fact came that Geralt would be missing out cause he would race off to do the job without a second thought to himself. 

Ignoring the piercing gaze he felt follow him he grabbed a cloth he saw near the sink, nothing but a scrap piece of linen really but it was clean, and after he laid it out he placed a manner of small fruits and some bread, a small smile on his face as he spotted the small jar of honey, an indulgence Geralt only recently admitted to him, and quickly added it to the pile before tying the cloth around it.

He was just about to head out to Roach to intercept the witcher before he left, sure that he would just leave straight away without the thought of saying goodbye, but the two of them practically collided with muttered swears as he turned the corner out of the kitchen and he briefly heard the sound of muffled snickering behind him.

“Jaskier? Everything alright?” Already worry colored Geralt’s face and he offered a small smile whilst he offered him the small package he had made.

“Yeah, just wanted to give you this before you left cause gods knows you wouldn’t eat unless I put the food in your hands” He waited with bated breath as he saw Geralt peek inside in the cloth, more for show and his sake as it was likely the witcher already knew what was in it, but he still felt his heart skip a beat at the small smile on the Geralt’s face when he noticed the contents, and suddenly that smile was aimed at him.

“Thanks, Jaskier, I’ll likely be back sometime tomorrow, try not to get cursed again while I’m away” He could only chuckle at that, he’d try but typically trouble just found him, some of the time anyway “I’m serious, I don’t want to find you turned into a goat cause you pissed Yen off”

“Dear witcher have you learned nothing since you’ve been with me, I can charm the skin off of a snake, a sorceress will be no match for me”

“Is that so?” he jumped a little as Yennefer came up behind him, a smirk on her lips as she leaned against the door frame to watch them bid their farewells.

Geralt just gave them both a look, a warning for the most part before he sighed and stalked back down the corridor, calling out a final warning to stay out trouble before he disappeared around the corner and out of sight.

Now that the witcher was gone the thought of eating alone, or worse with the sorceress and her intent gaze was entirely unappealing, and he had just taken a step back towards his room before her sweet voice called out to him.

“Jaskier, could I have a word with you a moment?” He closed his eyes, of course she would want to talk to him, likely to warn him to back off from Geralt for her sake but he didn’t plan to heed her words, if he got cursed then so be it.

Reluctantly he nodded and he heard her step back into the kitchen and only after another sigh did he follow, sparing a moment to grab a chunk of bread to satiate his hunger at least before he took a seat as far from her as he could. 

Slowly he picked at the bread, waiting for her to say her piece and be done with it but nothing came, instead she watched him take every bite and the scrutiny unsettled him, only eased a little when he felt his wolf sidle up beside him, but he could only take it for so long before he snapped “What do you want from me?”

“I want a great many things bard, but I doubt you could do much to help me get them” an uncomfortable silence settled over them for a moment, he resumed eating what was left of the bread and still she stared at him.

In all fairness, he figured that if she truly wanted to hex him she would have done so already, and the thought occurred to him then that he had never truly thanked her for saving him yet, maybe if he did so now it would soften her up a little.

“I’ve realized that I never truly thanked you for saving me all those nights ago, so thank you and I hope you decide not to turn me into goat” He saw her laugh a little and he relaxed a little at the sight.

“It’s nice to hear someone praise your skills, as I’m sure you know bard, but it is I who should be thanking you” He couldn’t help but frown then, unsure if what he was hearing was right, Yennefer had saved his life and yet she owed him thanks? Maybe he was a better charmer then he thought “I’ve known Geralt for decades now and whenever I see him he does little more than brood and grunt at you, and it’s true that we were together for a time-”

He looked away then debating whether he should leave, if the witch’s ploy was to go through every excruciating detail between her and Geralt then he didn’t plan on sticking around long enough to hear it, hell he’s sure if he grabbed his things he could still catch up to Geralt, but his thoughts were interrupted as Yennefer continued.

“I know you don’t want to hear it but I’m telling you because I know Geralt won’t and I don’t want our past to affect your relationship with him” He frowned again, unsure what the purpose was of this whole exercise, how could she guess anything that was happening between him and Geralt ”I’m not an idiot Jaskier, I’ve seen the glances you two give each other and the animals are a dead giveaway as well”

His eyes lit up then as he looked at her, surprise in his tone at the fact that someone else believed them to be soulmates “So you believe in it?”

“Yes, unlike our dear witcher I’m not blind to what’s in front me, and yes he may deny the fact to his dying breath but deep down he knows what you are to him” It seemed this whole conversation would be spent frowning as he found it hard to believe that the witcher would even tempt the thought of them being soulmates given how he usually handled the topic, in that he didn’t.

“Well can you try and tell him that because it’s been months and I’ve gotten nowhere with him”

“That’s easy for you to say but what is time to a witcher” The statement gave him pause, he had never thought of it in that way, months to him may as well be a blink of the eye for a witcher, not that it made the situation any easier “Besides, this is the closest I’ve seen him to being in love, and whilst the feeling may be as familiar to you as the wolf at your side, it is still new to Geralt and he still has much to learn” 

He knew the rumors of course, the witchers trials that stripped them of their ability to have soulmates which many people thought extended to their capacity to feel emotion and to love. Whilst he could certainly say Geralt struggled to communicate his feelings at the best of times he had seen more than enough proof to dispute the fact that they felt nothing, not that many people would take the time to listen. 

However, he thought back on Yennefer’s words, about this being the first time she had seen Geralt in love even as he thought back on the brief glimpses of their evidently close relationship “What you said about Geralt being in love, I thought you two were together for a time”

“Yes we were together, and it was nice, but we used each other to get what comfort we could from the shit happening around us, nothing more” He hummed a little in acknowledgment, thoughts turning to the prospect that maybe that will be how they end up, that they would come together every now and then to get some respite before going their different ways and the thought made him sad, for the first time he sympathized with the woman in front of him.

“For the record, I think Geralt does care for you in his own way, you were the person he thought of first when I-“ He vaguely gestured to his throat and Yennefer nodded in reply, a slight smile on her lips.

“You are good with your words; I’ll give you that”

“At least I’ve found someone to appreciate them, all Geralt does is complain that I talk too much, as if I’m not the one who earns us the coin when we’re stranded in some shit town, which, by the way, happens more often than you’d think” He leaned back into his chair now that his small rant was over, amusement clear on the sorceress’s face and he struggled to keep back his own smile.

“That’s why I wanted to thank you, for taking care of him and keeping him company when I couldn’t”

He thought then for a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips as he spoke “You know we should have had this conversation when he was here, maybe then he’d appreciate what I do more and learn to say thank you every once in a while”

“When you get him to do that tell me how, you have no idea how many ‘hmmms’ and ‘hmphs’ I’ve got as payment for my services” They both laughed then and for the first time he truly relaxed, his smile soon settling down to something more thoughtful before Yennefer spoke again “You may not see it, but being with you, he’s changed, dare I say he’s happier” He can’t help but give her a dubious look which she quickly gave a pointed look at “Just give him time, he’ll come around, eventually”

He spent another moment thinking of everything that had been said and he actually appreciated how candid Yennefer had been, how she genuinely seemed to care for Geralt’s welfare, and the fact was good enough for him to at least try and make an effort to get closer to the sorceress.

He took the time to say thank you again, utterly genuine and without worry of any curse this time before he left the kitchen, eager to change clothes and tidy up his belongings for when he would likely leave with Geralt tomorrow. As he entered the room he noted the unmade bed, and how quiet it was without the lark filling the silence with its song, the bird undoubtedly with Geralt on his adventure before he turned to his lute still resting on the covers. 

Slowly he made his way towards it, his wolf moving to lay beside him on the bed as he forwent tuning it for a moment to play a few chords that had been at the back of his mind, thoughts forming of a song about flowers and love, how they had to be nurtured and grown over time before they blossomed into something beautiful, something to be cherished by all, even witchers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't read the books but the conversation with Yennefer is kinda based on something in the books in which she thanks dandelion for accompanying Geralt so wanted to use that here


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some smut and some talking. What else could you need?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my first time writing smut in a very long time so be forgiving please.
> 
> Also there will probably be one final chapter for this story so enjoy, thanks for all the love and for sticking around.

It was early morning by the time he arrived back at the manor, early as in it would be a while before the sun would rise, but despite the urge to go in and check on Jaskier with the excuse to make sure that Yen hadn’t done anything untoward to him, he first made sure that Roach was taken care of. He owed her that much after he all but left her stranded outside when he’d rushed in to save Jaskier’s life, and whilst she would still give him a friendly nudge every now and then, he definitely had to ply her with apples, carrots, and the odd sugar cube.

He took extra care to brush over her coat, ignoring the way his lark would tug at his hair to encourage him to go inside and to his bard, but it was only when Roach huffed at him, stomping a hoof before bumping her head into his shoulder, urging him toward the house, did he finally leave.

Silently he made his way through the dark house, well he tried to keep silent but the lark on his shoulder accompanied each step with a chirp as they neared Jaskier’s room. As soon as they stepped inside the room, the man fast asleep on the bed as the wolf peered at them where it lay beside the bard, the lark left his shoulder to nuzzle briefly against the Jaskiers’ neck before both animals left the bed to undoubtedly make space for him.

It’s true that he only intended to check on the man, to make sure he was still alive, and he fully intended to make use of one of the many other rooms on the house, and yet as soon as he had laid eyes on the bard his decision had been made for him.

He quickly removed his armor, placing it carefully on the dresser table to be cleaned during the day but for now, he just wanted to rest, preferably with his bard in his arms if he could get away with it. Slowly he climbed into the bed, still wearing the clothes he’d left in the day before, and if awake he’s sure Jaskier wouldn’t let him anywhere near the sheets and would instead push him in the direction of a bath.

The fact brought a small smile to his face as he settled into the bed, he’d barely just lay still, already debating if he could get away with hooking an arm around the other man to pull them closer together before a muffled, sleep riddled voice broke the air around them.

“Grelt?” Suddenly he found his arms were filled with a Jaskier shaped lump, and he blamed the after-effects of the potion he took as to why he pulled the man closer and buried his nose into the crook of his neck, all the while he let out a groan which he felt cause Jaskier to shiver a little in his hold.

It’s then that Jaskier shifted on top of him, their bodies pressed even closer and two things happened at once. The first was that he noticed a scent in the air, one of warm spices that left a warm feeling his gut, a smell that was undoubtedly from Jaskier, and whilst he’d smelt it before on the road together it had never been this strong before, but that was likely because he still had his nose pressed against the man’s neck. He couldn’t help but press his lips just over where he could hear the man’s heart race, and he couldn’t help but flick his tongue out against the skin, a groan leaving him at the taste that was echoed from the man above him.

The second thing he noticed was the hard line of Jaskier’s arousal pressed against his hip and he couldn’t help but lift his hips a little just to give a bit of friction, and he gave a pleased hum when he felt Jaskier almost unconsciously grind his hips down to try and get some relief.

“Jaskier?” All he got was a grunt as the man once again ground his hard dick against his hip, apparently unwilling to do much else as he still tried to cling to the last vestiges of sleep, but the squirming bard above him soon had his own dick make its interest known.

Before he let things get too far he quickly put his hands on the bard’s hips, stopping any further movement as he ignored the petulant whine that came from Jaskier, unable to help his chuckle at the fact as he placed another kiss on the man’s throat to try and placate him.

Again he felt Jaskier try to resist his grip keeping him still and grind back down against him, and oh how he wanted to give the bard free reign, but some part of him felt as though he were taking advantage of the other man, so he had to at least ask to be sure.

“Jaskier?” his question was again answered with just a grunt and he huffed a little that he would have to be the one talking for once “Do you want this? Want me to take care of you” The answering groan as Jaskier once again tried to rub against him made his answer obvious but he wanted to be sure, or maybe a part of himself wanted to hear that someone actually wanted him “Need to hear you say it first”

He resumed kissing along Jaskier’s throat, giving a nip of his teeth every so often that had the other man’s breath hitch as he waited for his answer. When there wasn’t one forthcoming he moved his hands to instead tease at the small bit of exposed skin on the small of Jaskier’s back, content to just draw comfort from it until he eventually fell asleep. Instead, the bard moved above him, just a little, but it was enough to have him press against his own erection that was straining at his pants, and he could barely bite back his groan at the slight pressure.

“Please” He let out the breath he was holding at Jaskier’s voice before he gave a hum as a sign for the bard to continue, and it was with a sigh that the man did “Gods Geralt, please”

Any other time and he would have made Jaskier beg a little more for what he wanted, but the small plea whispered into his chest was enough for now and with a final kiss to the man’s neck he’s rolling them so that he has Jaskier spread below him, eyes closed feigning sleep but he doubted the man would be able to see much in the dark of the room anyway.

Slowly he began to pepper kisses across Jaskier’s jaw and a more primal part of him wanted to mark up the pretty neck of his bard, but the fact that the man was half asleep and that he’d be the recipient of Yennefer’s judgment tomorrow was all that stopped him. So he instead brought a hand down to brush his fingers against Jaskiers erection that was straining at his small clothes, smirking as he felt it twitch under his touch.

He made quick work of working Jaskier’s underclothes low enough to pull his dick free, pressing just a hint of teeth against the man’s throat in warning as he heard the moan that filled the room. Refusing to leave so much as an inch of space between them he moved only a little so that he could look down at Jaskier’s dick, unable to stop how he licked his lips at the sight before he quickly peered up at Jaskier’s face thinking he’d been caught staring only to remember that the man couldn’t make him out in the dark.

Another time and he wouldn’t hesitate to put his mouth around the other man’s dick to try and wring out every moan and cry of his name that he could, but it was late and Jaskier was still healing so, for now, he refused to do anything too strenuous on the other man.

He turned his head so that he could spit into his hand before he wrapped it around Jaskier’s dick, silencing the other man’s moan with his mouth as he slowly pumped his fist until Jaskier was letting out small gasps of air “This good?”

“Yes, more Geralt, plea-“ He silenced the bard’s demands with another kiss as he increased the speed of his fist, Jaskier helpless but to let out small moans against his mouth. 

As for himself, he’d moved off the other man slightly so that he could grind his hips against the mattress and at least get some friction on his dick still trapped in his pants, but he wasn’t too worried about whether he got off, if he was desperate he’d go to the bathroom to sort himself out after Jaskier fell back to sleep, but his sole focus now was the man slowly falling apart below him.

He moved from Jaskier’s mouth to press small kisses across his throat and let the scent of the man’s arousal consume him. He gave himself one selfish moment when he flicked his wrist on an upward thrust of his hand, his thumb brushing over the head and the precome that had steadily started to leak there, and oh how he want to taste, but he picked up the pace even further, the deep groan from Jaskier causing his own dick to twitch.

“Geralt, you-“ He flicked his wrist again which caused Jaskier to let out a breathless curse before he began again, “you Geralt, want to feel, please” The plead had him groan against the bard's throat and if he were stronger he would ignore the man’s wishes and finish getting him off before letting him fall back to sleep, but as always it was nearly impossible to ignore Jaskiers’ wants.

So that was how he found himself extracting his hand from around Jaskier’s dick, ignoring the small whine from the other man as he haphazardly loosened the laces on his breeches enough to pull himself out with a small grunt. Not a moment later he felt a loose hand wrap around his dick and he practically growled as he leaned his head back up to kiss the bard, his bard, his hand returning to stroke the other man’s dick with renewed vigor.

He’s almost ashamed to admit that he won’t last long with Jaskier’s hand around him, the both of them reduced to pressing their foreheads together, allowing a gentle press of their lips every now and then as they let out small gasps and reverent whispers of the others name.

Luckily Jaskier was in a similar state to him and it’s with a handful more strokes that the bard was coming between them with a strangled shout of his name, slowly stroking him through his release as the grip on his own dick tightened. It was the broken final call of his name that drove him over the edge with a growl of Jaskier’s name, an act he noted caused the bards dick to twitch half-heartedly in his hand as they slowly came down from their highs.

He didn’t waste time then, he got up from the bed and pointedly did not look at the wolf and lark in the corner of the room as he searched for something to clean them both up with, settling for an old shirt of his as he returned to the bed where he was eagerly pulled down into a kiss which he happily returned.

“That was fun” He smirked at the blissful look on the bards face even as he looked about three seconds away from falling asleep again, but he still pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of Jaskiers mouth as he hummed his assent whilst he wiped up the evidence of their depraved act in the dark.

He then tossed the shirt to a corner of the room as he moved to lay next to the other man and just as before he found his arms filled with Jaskier who eagerly clung close to his side, unable to bite back his smile as he wrapped an arm around the other man and pulled him even closer, and it was only a few minutes later that he too joined the bard in sleep.

**********

He woke up as the sun began to filter through the curtain and into their room, Jaskier was still sprawled across him so he couldn’t move even if he had wanted to and instead resorted to idly stroking a hand down the man’s back as he slept.

It was peaceful for a time, only moving to aim a stare and silence his lark who had begun to chirp to signify the start of the day, all whilst he ignored the all-knowing gaze of Jaskier’s wolf as he lay back in the bed. It was one of those rare times where he had nowhere to be, nothing to do and the luxury of the day to do as he pleased with the person he cared for most.

He knew his feelings for the bard, however complicated, were something akin to love, at least that’s what he believed given what he’d heard from others. It was foreign to him and admitting it to himself was just as challenging to admit out loud, but it was obvious to anyone who looked about his deep regard for the man on top of him.

Almost as if he were privy to his thoughts Jaskier began to stir awake, taking a moment to hug even closer to him before he saw his face scrunch up a little “You stink Geralt”

“Morning to you too”

“Seriously did you bathe in a bog before you got back last night”

“No, a swamp” He felt Jaskier let out a huff of laughter before he rolled away from him to instead curl up on the other side of the bed, and he couldn’t help but note how chill the morning air was without the bard pressed against him.

“Well you can come back after you’ve bathed, I have a reputation to uphold and smelling like stale bog water isn’t one of them” He turned his head to look at the other man, he had hoped for them to spend more of the morning lazing in bed but it was clear he was being brushed off, told to leave essentially.

Not that he could blame the other man, he had essentially invited himself into his bed and then used him for his pleasure, yes they’d both gotten off, but how much of it was because of his actions, his insistence, that drove Jaskier to reciprocate. 

If he could he’d probably throw up at the fact, but all he could do was offer a final mournful glance at the bard’s back before he was leaving the bed, not even sparing his lark a look when it joined him on his shoulder, for the first time in a long time he felt as though he didn’t deserve the company. Or maybe that feeling had never really left.

He avoided going into the big bath joined to Jaskier’s room, he didn’t want to be there when the man finally came to his senses and realized what had been done to him last night. He wasn’t going to leave exactly, he just planned to go to the lake relatively close to the house without the intent of being found for a few hours, and when he did return, find out if Jaskier could still tolerate him enough to travel with him.

It was foolproof, at least that was before he factored in Yennefer. There were a whole manner of things she could do to ruin his plans, lock the house with him inside, track him down and likely drag him back by the ear, or now for instance when she stepped in front of him just as he was headed towards the front door, no doubt alerted by the lark chirping angrily in his ear.

“You’re back early” The smug look on her face told him all he needed to know, she probably knew everything anyway and he wanted nothing more than to be out of the house.

“I was just leaving”

He scowled as she simply raised an eyebrow up at him “To?” 

“None of your business” Once again he tried to dodge past her but there must be some magic at play because he could barely get a step past her, which only served to rile him up more and it definitely didn’t help that his bird had started to peck at his neck, half-heartedly he tried to swat it away, not that it had ever worked before, but he knew he deserved the treatment.

“Oh it really is my business, so how about you save me the trouble of reading your mind and just tell me”

“Why don’t you just read my mind and be done with it then” He all but spat at her, at least then she’d have her answers and he could go as he pleased, that was if his lark would even let him take a step further before no doubt alerting the wolf and Jaskier to his disappearance, but he didn’t have time to think about that now.

“Cause I like to see you squirm”

He looked away then, his fists clenched at his sides as instead tried to reason with her “Damnit Yen, you don’t understand, I can’t be here”

“Why not” He could only sigh in defeat, damn sorceress, why couldn’t she save all this trouble and just let him go.

“We-“ He paused for a moment, unable to help the way he clenched his teeth “I did things, last night, that I shouldn’t have”

At that Yennefer smiled at him, mischief in her eye as she replied “Yeah you did you old wolf” 

He couldn’t help but grimace then, gods why did this have to be so hard “It’s not like that Yen for fuck's sake, I took advantage”

“Looks like you both enjoyed it to me” He growled then and renewed his efforts to push past her even as his lark began to literally tear his hair out in its effort of getting him to stay, but this time he can feel the force attempting to hold him back, and he was just about to use Aard when she continued “Let’s see what your bard has to say about it then, JASKIER!”

He heard the bard all but fall from the bed at the call of his name, likely thinking it was something urgent, and sure enough, when Jaskier finally joined them he looked absolutely disheveled, beautiful even with a dagger held loosely in his hand, but he quickly stopped himself going further down that path.

Suddenly he was being forced to turn around, forced to meet Jaskier’s eyes which were startlingly blue in the morning light, and yet he could still see that Jaskier was trying to piece what was happening in front of him, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty as Yennefer spoke “I forgot to say, Geralt here is a flight risk, keep a better eye on him”

Nothing could have prepared him for the hurt look in Jaskier’s eyes then, of the worry, the betrayal highlighted by unshed tears, the man unable to say anything but a hoarse whisper “Geralt?”

“Jaskier it’s not-“ He tried to placate the other man, to tell him it was his own failings that meant he had to leave, meant that they couldn’t travel together lest he do something worse, but he was interrupted from all of that by Yennefer.

“Ugh, both of you go bathe and talk this out as two grown adults” Suddenly he’s being pushed towards Jaskier who only just managed to steel his gaze before turning to storm back to their room which left him helpless but to follow, anything to get rid of the pure heartbreak he’d seen on the man’s face, his lark still pecking at his neck in anger as if telling him that he had truly fucked up whatever they had, and he knew it was right.

As soon as they made it to the room, the lark left him in favor of joining the wolf, not that he blamed it, the wolf was probably better company than he ever was, but that thought is gone when Jaskier turned towards him, a defeated look on his face that hurt more than any mark a monster had left on him “You were leaving weren’t you”

“Yes” He figured that there would be no point in lying, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel guilty about it.

“Were you going to come back” 

He couldn’t keep looking into Jaskier’s eyes, at the hurt in them as he muttered out “Eventually”

“Eventually” He couldn’t help but wince at the sour imitation of his answer from the bard, at the fact that it was practically spat at him, but just as suddenly as it had come, Jaskier’s rage seemed to leave him as he turned away, his shoulders sagged in defeat “I’m such a fucking idiot”

That was the last thing he expected to hear, and sure the bard had his moments, but none of this was his fault “I’m sorry Jaskier, for last night, I shouldn’t of-“

“Shouldn’t have what? Come into my bed? Jerked me off?” He kept silent, unsure of what to say until Jaskier broke the silence again “Well, what is it Geralt? All of it? Are you sorry for not kicking me to the road earlier?” The other man was animated in his rant and he didn’t blame him, the dagger from earlier still in his hand as he accused him of not caring, and whilst far from the truth, he still didn’t know what the right thing to say was.

“Jaskier-”

“You know I’ve tried so hard Geralt, to bite my tongue and stay my hand to keep this between us, to not push you away, and when I finally think we’re getting somewhere, when you finally show me something you try and run away and forget about it, forget about me”

“Never, I would never forget about you” He didn’t know where that outburst came from, but it left a stifling silence behind which he had to try and fill “Last night I shouldn’t- I wasn’t…fuck”

“Wasn’t what?” He saw Jaskier cross his arms across his chest, dagger still in his hand as he gave him an incredulous look, and he hated that look on him, hated even more that it was aimed at him, but this had to be said, even if he lost everything.

“I shouldn’t have come into this room, gone into your bed and used you like I did”

“Is that what you think Geralt? That you forced yourself into my bed and my hand around your dick” When it was said like that he couldn’t help but wince at the fact but still Jaskier didn’t let up “I don’t know if you noticed Geralt but I fucking enjoyed last night, in fact, I’m the one who started it by practically humping your leg, not to mention you asked me twice if it was what I wanted and twice I said yes”

He was stuck on how he felt, conflicted most would say. On the one hand, he couldn’t shake the part of him that said he took advantage of a barely awake Jaskier, but the other part was yelling at himself for what a damn fool he had been for doubting the other man’s feelings, and how he’d just caused more pain. That is what monsters did after all.

“Jaskier, I never meant to hurt-“

“Well you have” All the fight in Jaskier seemed to leave him then, he was in unchartered waters with no clue on what to do or how to make any of it better and was left to watch as Jaskier slowly sat on the bed, he too looked defeated and was on the verge of tears as his wolf joined his side “If you dislike me so much, dislike the idea of us even potentially being soulmates so much then just go. I won’t chase you around anymore, but please don’t drag this out longer than it has to be”

“No” That was the one thing he knew he saw sure of, he wouldn’t give up Jaskier unless the man told him outright, but right now he was being offered a choice and he was sure in his answer as he approached the bed where Jaskier sat, ignoring the snarls of the bard's wolf as he knelt in front of him. “No, I’m not leaving you. I get that I’ve been an ass and a cad and I don’t deserve anything from you, but I want whatever this is, with you” Even with his mutations he’s sure he can feel his heartbeat race in the silence that followed, taking a final breath before he offered his own choice to the other man “Can you forgive me?”

He didn’t think as he reached forward to grab onto Jaskiers’ hands, anything to ground himself so he didn’t drown in the silence that threatened to choke him, only breathing when Jaskier finally looked up at him, eyes bright with a small smile on his face “I’ll forgive you, for a price” At that moment Jaskier could ask for absolutely anything, the still-beating heart in his chest, and he would gladly give it to him but was only stopped by doing so with a small whisper “A kiss”

There wasn’t a hint of hesitation or doubt in his mind as he quickly separated the gap between them to press their lips together, pulling his hands from the man’s grasp to instead curl against his face. The kiss started off rough, mostly teeth hitting each other to convey his, no their, desperation for each other, but it only lasted a moment before it became slower and took on a sweeter edge.

When he pulled away it was with a smile on his face, mirrored on Jaskier's own and he couldn’t resist the temptation as he leaned in for another kiss. This one even more sickeningly sweet than the last one, and whilst he always had trouble with his words, he hoped this conveyed what he felt for the other man and given by the small hum he felt from Jaskier, the other man knew it.

He was left breathless long before he actually felt the need to breathe, the fact that he could still have this with Jaskier was enough to take his breath away all on its own, and when they parted a second time he pulled the man from the bed onto his lap, earning a shout which quickly turned into a laugh as they pressed their foreheads together. 

Smile still on his face he leaned in for a third time, quickly deciding that kissing Jaskier was fast becoming one of his favorite past times until the bard pulled away briefly to mutter “You’re an idiot, you know that” He simply hummed his agreement at the comment, he deserved to be called worse, but he would take being an idiot for now “Yennefer was right, you do really need a bath”

He pulled away then to aim a teasing smirk at the bard which lasted all of a second before he began to pepper kisses along his jaw until he reached his ear “Says the person who hasn’t bathed since they got cursed”

“Maybe I was waiting for someone to proposition me” It was Jaskier’s turn to tease him then, a smile playing on his lips even as he felt a hand tug gently at his hair so that they could better look at each other.

“In that case” He didn’t bother to finish his statement as with a few quick movements he lifted them both off of the floor and made his way to the bath next door, Jaskier’s hands and mouth touching any part of him that he could.

They spent another moment just stood in the room, taking their time to kiss and get a feel for one another and it was rather reluctantly that he finally let Jaskier back onto his feet, and yet he couldn’t bear to pull away just yet.

He’s unsure how it happened, one minute they were both clothed and he was taking his time to explore the other man’s mouth, but in a flurry of hands suddenly they’re undressed, lips only parting from each other for breath, which suited him just fine as he let his hands roam Jaskier’s body.

He couldn’t help but frown every now and then when his fingers grazed some bump or dip of some long-ago scar in Jaskier’s skin, he’d known the bard had been traveling before they met, but the fact that he had gotten hurt and he hadn’t been there to protect him made something uncomfortable settle in his chest. Jaskier seemed to sense the shift though and let out a barely-there ‘I’ll tell you about them later’ before they were kissing again and the thought is gone with deft hands in his hair and on his hip before Jaskier spoke again.

“Are we doing this here?” He understood the loaded question, were they going to take that final step now, not necessarily in the bath, but would it be happening, and he already anticipated the rejection, the second possible fight at his answer.

“I want to, really, but not here” There was silence then, Jaskier at least didn’t seem angry which helped, but at his confused look he explained further “I trust Yennefer with my life, but she knows too much, she’s probably watching now”

At the sound of Jaskier’s laugh he couldn’t help his own smile and quickly buried his head in the crook of the bard’s neck to hide it “We should give her a show then” He can’t help but groan then, of course Jaskier would be into it.

“That’s exactly what she wants” He heard another small laugh which caused him to groan into Jaskiers’ neck again before he became a bit somber as he, for once, voiced what he wanted “when we do- I want it just us” 

Before he could dwell on the fact that he actually opened himself up, even just a little, he felt a hand in his hair and he let it pull him back and away from the safety and cover of Jaskier’s neck to instead look the man in his eyes, and whilst he had expected to see some form of jest in the man’s face, he’s met with nothing but what he could only call love. “Who would have thought that Geralt of Rivea is a romantic” He just gave a grunt as Jaskier moved to kiss him again, a smile on his face.

Whilst he had intended to keep their actions relatively innocent, the way Jaskier’s hand would trace along his body to tease at his hardening dick had him quickly abandon that idea. In fact, he took the time to suck a small mark onto the bard’s neck, enjoying the whine and the hand held tight in his hair as he did it before he made a trail of kisses down Jaskier’s chest until finally he was knelt in front of him, and when he looked up he was met with nothing but awe.

“What happened to keeping this between us?” He could see the smile edge its way on Jaskier’s face and he just gave his own smirk in reply.

“That was to do with us fucking, never said anything about sucking your dick” He was just about to lean his head forward the rest of the way to press a couple of teasing kisses to the base of Jaskier’s dick when he saw something flash across the other man’s face. It wasn’t a bad look, at least that’s what he thought, but it was enough to have him pull away, unsure now “That’s if you want me too, I don’t-“

Suddenly Jaskier is bent down and their lips are pressed together, stopping whatever else he had to say and the gentle hand that cupped the side of his face had his worry melt away “You talk too much”

He smiled even as their lips were still pressed together, keeping them there only for a moment before he finally let him free, his smile almost feral as he saw the cornflower blue eyes he was so accustomed to being swallowed by black, betraying Jaskier’s want.

Renewed in his efforts he first moved a hand to encircle Jaskier’s dick, it had been a while since he has done this, but he was eager to do something for his bard and gave his dick a couple of slow strokes. As he did this he leaned his head forward to nose at the base where the man’s scent was strongest, barely suppressing his grunt in arousal as he began to kiss his way up to the tip, gods he knew he was ruined for anyone else after this.

He looked up just as he took the tip of Jaskier’s dick into his mouth, using his tongue just to press at the small bundle of nerves underneath before licking at the precome beading at the tip, letting out another groan at the taste of something so inherently Jaskier, that had the other man’s knees shake.

He continued his ministrations for a moment, drinking in every small hitch and whine from the bard’s throat before he slowly started to take more of him into his mouth, eyes never breaking away from Jaskiers until he reached the base, perhaps the one good thing that came from his mutations, at which his bard could only let out a moan of his name as he looked away.

The fact that he already had Jaskier so undone had him reach a hand to his own dick and set a slow pace as his other hand reached out for one of Jaskier’s, and with his eyes still focused on the other man brought it to tangle in his hair, hoping that he understood his silent message.

From the shiver he felt go through Jaskier he understood, especially when the hand tugged even tighter for a moment before moving to cup at his cheek, angling his face just a little to better look up at the man “Fuck Geralt, gods your beautiful like this” He just hummed his assent which earned another groan from the bard before he pulled his mouth back a little only to move back down as a way to tell Jaskier to get on with it, earning a small huff in response from the man “You sure Geralt?”

He just rolled his eyes as he slowly pulled off the man’s dick, sucking as he went whilst his tongue traced along the vein underneath which had the man shudder above him, taking a second to suck at the head which earned a muttered curse before he quickly swallowed him back down until his mouth pressed at the base of Jaskier’s dick.

He groaned as he felt Jaskier’s hips thrust just a little against him, pushing his dick just that bit deeper down his throat and apparently that was all that was needed before Jaskier’s hand returned to his hair to give small testing thrusts into his mouth.

He could take more, he wanted more and would happily give Jaskier whatever he needed but he couldn’t help but be somewhat pleased, that the bard was being somewhat considerate towards him, something that was so rare for witchers to experience and yet he had it with Jaskier. 

He should be scared that he would let Jaskier do anything, absolutely anything to him or to anyone else and he would take whatever he would give with the only thought of keeping the bard safe, but with each passing moment he found the idea less terrifying and more tempting.

It’s after a couple of slower thrusts into his mouth at which he doesn’t turn away from Jaskier’s gaze that finally has the man fucking into his throat with abandon, muttering praises down at him every now and then as he tried his best to suck and move his tongue to have Jaskier above him keen and moan.

As Jaskier’s pace got more uneven and his breathing more hitched he could tell the man was close and so he sped up the hand currently stroking his dick. He tried to time it with Jaskier’s thrusts into him and when the bard looked down him, cheeks flushed with arousal, he watched Jaskier bite his lip to keep back a groan, likely at the sight of him stroking himself as his throat was being fucked, and that fact meant that he had to get a firm hand around his dick to stop himself from coming too soon.

“Gods Geralt, no one should be allowed to look that sinful” He hummed again, the hand in his hair getting even tighter and he couldn’t help but choke a little this time when Jaskier thrust down his throat, the other man quickly pulled off worried but he just took a breath before swallowing him down again and luckily he didn’t need to persuade Jaskier to take up his pace again “Look at me Geralt” 

He hadn’t even realized he’d closed his eyes but still, he obeyed, his gaze quickly meeting Jaskier’s own and it took all he had not to come on the spot “ ‘m close, I’m so fucking close Geralt, fuck, you and your dick have ruined me” He groaned in agreement then, but unable to help the way his dick twitched in his hand at the words, it was good to know that Jaskier was just as fucked as he was when it came to each other “come for me, Geralt, please ”

The command went straight to his dick and it was with another couple of strokes of his hand that he came, spilling across his hand and the tile below with a guttural groan that had Jaskier still in him for a moment, and after a couple of small thrusts into his mouth he only got a cry of his name before Jaskier was coming down his throat. 

He tried his best to swallow what he could but Jaskier clearly had other plans when he pulled his dick out of his mouth, still coming, and he stroked himself, he was barely able to close his eyes in time as Jaskier finished across his face and it was almost pitiful the way his dick gave a final spurt of come at the act.

“You need to work on your aim” Even as he said it he smiled a little at the affronted look on Jaskier’s face, all the while he trailed his clean hand through some of the come now coating his face before putting it in his mouth to taste, chuckling a little at the dark look that came over Jaskiers face for a moment.

“I don’t need to work on anything, or are you forgetting that I’ve struck a werewolf before, or those couple of drowners that you almost let escape, or that alp-“

“Shut up Jaskier” He stood up then to press their lips together, biting only slightly on Jaskier’s bottom lip and letting out an appreciative him when his mouth opened and allowed his tongue to better explore his mouth until he pulled away with a teasing smirk “Or at least next time warn a guy”

“Maybe I wanted to lay claim to what was mine” He hummed then as he tried not to give away just how he was not opposed to that idea.

“Didn’t take you for the jealous type” Jaskier just chuckled at that before pulling him down into another kiss, more than happy to let the other man take control but it wasn’t long before he felt his dick begin to stir again and whilst he’s sure he can go a second round, he knew that if he didn’t slow things down now then they would soon find themselves in the bed next door “You’re just lucky we’ve got a bath waiting”

“Please, as if you wouldn’t let me do that again on the road” From the glint in Jaskier’s eye he knew there was no point denying it, the thought of Jaskier marking him, being possessive of him, showing that he was wanted, had more of an effect on him than he wanted to admit just yet, so to change the topic he simply bent down to lift the bard over his shoulder before walking into the bath and unceremoniously dropping him into the water.

He couldn’t help but chuckle a little as he watched Jaskier sputter and flail in the water that probably only came up to his knees, but that changed when suddenly his legs were pulled from under him and he was joining Jaskier in the water. The sound of his laughter filling the air around them forced his own smile and made his chest just a bit tighter as he splashed a wave of water over to the other man in retaliation, an act which soon started a war between them as they tried to splash water over each other.

It was easy and comfortable and for the first time he felt sated, content, even as his head was being forced under the water because the hands behind it were just as quick to pull him back out and instead choose to drown him in a kiss. 

This time when the words came to him unbidden, Jaskier’s hand rubbing shampoo through his hair as he also pressed small kisses across his back and neck that made him shudder under the touch, he didn’t deny or hesitate once when the thought ‘I love you’ crossed his mind.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I may have said there was 1 more chapter last time but that was a lie, but for real the next chapter will be the last one.
> 
> Also the first half of the chapter is like really choppy and I kinda hate it but the second half is better I promise. Is it obvious I have no idea what Im talking about XD
> 
> Also it's back to Jaskier's POV

It’s when they finally untangle themselves long enough from one another to leave the bath and get themselves semi-decent in the bedroom that he was told they’d be spending another day at Yennefer’s house. 

Whilst he wasn’t going to complain, he knew the witcher deserved a day off more than anyone, he had been fully prepared to trek along forest roads under a blue sky, but that was before Geralt decided Roach needed a day’s extra rest from exerting herself getting them to the house when he was first cursed three days ago. When Geralt first told him that he couldn’t help but smirk, able to see through the Witcher’s ploy easily enough, but again, he wasn’t going to challenge him on it.

The rest of the day was spent relatively relaxed, Geralt took the time to clean his armor whilst he brushed his fingers through the witchers hair, and when he started to make small braids on the sides of his head, Geralt spared him only a glance before he carried on with his duties, a small smile on his lips.

Later they walked down to the river, Geralt with a rod in hand he must have gotten from Yennefer whilst he strummed a simple tune on his lute and that was how they spent the day, with Geralt trying to fish for their dinner whilst he tried to compose a few new songs for when they took to the road again, silently pleased whenever Geralt offered his input whenever a rhyme was just out of reach.

If Yennefer had anything to say when they returned to the house just before dark, hand in hand and slightly disheveled from an impromptu make-out session he’d coaxed Geralt into, she kept it to herself, but he could definitely see the twinkle in her eye that he’s sure meant that she’ll tease Geralt later.

Surprisingly they all dine together, Geralt cooked the couple of fish that he had caught in the day whilst Yennefer supplied the drink that flowed freely at their table. More often than not the sound of their laughter could be heard filling the room, and in the glow of the firelight, wine glass full with Geralt’s hand in his he can’t help but feel this is what true happiness felt like.

The next day, hangover-free, likely from some magic voodoo thing Yen did, the both of them are set to leave, but not before he got stopped by Yennefer and pulled into a hug he didn’t expect, but was thankful for anyway, at least until a small vial was slipped into his hand. 

It only took a second of inspection to see that it was oil and he couldn’t help but blush at the fact even as Yennefer laughed as she shooed him towards where Geralt stood waiting with Roach, but not before he promised to look after the Witcher even though they both knew he didn’t have to be told twice.

Lute strapped to his shoulder it’s with a spring in his step that he joined Geralt, ready to head off to wherever the next job took them, at least that was the plan only Geralt just stood there, looking somewhat expectant and nervous whilst he tried to convey his confusion at the delay, the witcher only had to get on the horse after all.

He can’t tell how long they stood there, it felt like minutes and eventually he had to break the silence “Is there something wrong? Have you decided Roach needs another sick day”

The smile teasing at his lips were mirrored on Geralt’s own for a moment, at least until they hear Yennefer behind them calling them idiots no less, and this time he was inclined to agree with her until the witcher pulled him closer and put a warm hand on his hip.

“You’re riding Roach today” His surprise must be evident on his face by the way Geralt’s lips tilted in an almost smile “You’re still recovering from the curse; I’d rather you didn’t exert yourself too much”

Again he could see through the witcher’s charade all too easily, he knew better than anyone that he was more than capable walking throughout the day, hell with the good weather he didn’t even plan to complain once, but it was impossible to refuse such a tempting offer.

“Exert myself huh? May I remind you of yesterday by the river when you-“

“Alright, that’s enough” He can’t help but laugh as Geralt interrupted him, yellow eyes quickly diverting to no doubt glare at a silently gleeful Yennefer behind them before he was suddenly being lifted and had no choice but to mount the horse who looked done with the whole ordeal.

“Gods Geralt you could warn a guy before you start manhandling him like that, he might get the wrong idea” He laughed at the witcher as he pulled his lute from his shoulder and passed it down for Geralt to attach to Roach, past experience had told him that horse riding and lute playing didn’t go hand in hand.

Ready to go, he looked down just in time to see Geralt roll his eyes at him, what he didn’t expect was the witcher to also mount Roach and settle behind him, strong arms quickly wrapped around him as they reached for the reins and then they were moving.

“You know Geralt, if you wanted me in your lap all you had to do was ask, it wouldn’t exactly be a hardship”

“Be careful what you wish for” The words whispered in his ear sent a shiver down his spine, only heightened by the hand that left the reins to wrap around his waist and pull him impossibly closer against the witcher and it took every effort not to groan at the fact.

It was then he suddenly remembered they had an audience, and even as they slowly slipped from view he turned as best as he could to peer around Geralt’s hulking form to wave goodbye to Yennefer who was still stood by the door and who offered her own wave and shout of goodbye in return “Be careful out there, if I see you boys again it’ll be too soon”

He hadn’t expected that response and was almost shocked when he settled back against Geralt’s chest even as he huffed a laugh “Doesn’t sugar coat things does she”

The witcher only offered him a grunt and he just rolled his eyes at the typical response before he relaxed against Geralt's body behind him. His eyes quickly cast down to his wolf silently trotting beside them, and whilst he knew the wolf was no doubt alert, he couldn’t help but note how more relaxed it seemed, comfortable even, and the fact brought a smile to his face.

All the while Geralt’s lark flitted across the trees above them, then to his wolf and even to his shoulder every now and then to offer a small trinket it had found along the way, the whole scenario only made sweeter when he felt Geralt reach into a pocket to pull out a handful of berries to feed it before it settled on the witcher’s shoulder and fell into song.

He’s sure they had a long way to go and he was determined to get the witcher to at least refer to them as soulmates just once, even it was the last thing he did, but for now, this was more than enough. He happily leaned back against Geralt’s chest and closed his eyes whilst he hummed one of the songs he had been working on the previous day, giving a small smile when he felt the arm around him tighten and then lips pressed to his temple.

*********

Since their revelation at Yennefer’s their dynamic had changed slightly. Where before they would sleep apart, only together should it be freezing outside or only one bed inside, they were virtually inseparable now. 

He had worried about having to address the topic with Geralt that first night, it had taken months just for the witcher to admit he had feelings for him, and he was loathe to appear too forward now and push him away instead. 

It was all for naught though as when he settled into his bedroll for the evening, trying to debate whether it was worth asking Geralt to join him, he didn’t even have to say a word before Geralt was laying down beside him and it was only a few seconds later that he was being maneuvered and then pulled against the warm chest of his witcher.

“You enjoy manhandling me far too much, something you wanna tell me?”

His comment is met with the witcher lightly pinching his hip and a weary “Go to sleep Jaskier” which he can’t help but laugh a little at.

That was the first of many nights and not only that but Geralt had deemed it his duty to train him to defend himself. He had first scoffed at the idea and reminded Geralt of not only the wolf which barely left his side but also the multiple times he had saved the witcher with his knives, but the worry etched into the witcher's face and how he seemed truly serious about the training had him agree. At least with the promise that Geralt wouldn’t just use the excuse to knock him on his ass all the time.

The witcher had just chuckled at him and pressed a kiss to his forehead before going off to hunt for their dinner and whilst he was sure he was going to be knocked over more times than not, he figured he could suffer through it if it made Geralt smile and gave him peace of mind.

Sure enough, when the time came to practice the witcher didn’t go easy on him. He had been given Geralt’s steel sword to train with, and whilst he had been taught some of the basics over the years, the weight was new to him and he had first started to get a feel for the sword by getting a few practice swings in.

“You done messing around now” He gave a quick look to the witcher who was stood in front of him, impatient as ever with his silver sword in hand as he waited for them to start, but he figured for once he may have the upper hand here, Geralt didn’t know of his training and he was fully tempted to mess with the witcher a little.

“I apologize, I was just wondering what it felt like to be a hero whose heroics are sung about by only the most talented of bards” He laughed as Geralt just rolled his eyes at him and told him to just attack him already with the promise he would go easy the first time.

He moved the sword between his hands again to get a final feel for it and only when it felt somewhat comfortable in his grip did he lunge forward. He went for the obvious move and strike the sword down and only when he saw the witcher bring his sword up to defend the blow did he twirl as he ducked under the raised arm to tap the sword against Geralt’s chest.

They stood like that for a moment, Geralt looked what he could only call stunned, and he couldn’t help the smile on his face as he quirked an eyebrow up at the witcher “Surprised?”  
That seemed to bring Geralt from his trance, his face going into a frown before he took a step back and gave a grunt of again.

He wasn’t stupid enough to think he could get away with the same move twice so this time when he brought his sword up he let them clash only to quickly attack again and again as Geralt blocked each one. He made sure to follow a pattern of blows that showed some finesse and that he was actually trying, and given that Geralt was starting to give a bit of pushback he knew it was working. This time when he went to start the pattern again he changed it and instead crouched down, to swipe his leg across the ground that caught the witcher and caused him to fall over.

With a smile on his face, he stood, the point of his sword aimed over Geralt’s neck as he smirked down at him and the two of them just stood there for a moment assessing each other. He was just about to offer a hand down to the witcher and help him up when suddenly Geralt moved to grab one of his legs and he soon found himself on the floor as well, not even given a chance to recuperate before Geralt is on top of him, pinning him to the ground and he’s sure he’s never seen a more beautiful sight.

“You’ve done this before” Geralt’s accusation had him smile a little too innocently as he tried desperately not to focus on how Geralt was pressed against him that had his gut twist with arousal.

“I may have dabbled in a bit of swordplay in my youth” He smirked up at the witcher and rolled his hips up to meet Geralt’s to emphasize his point, expecting to maybe get a laugh, scolded and then to return to their practice. Except he froze when he felt the hard line of Geralt’s erection pressed against him and he silently swore as he felt his own start to harden, still pressed against Geralt that made his own want obvious.

There was a tense moment then, both unsure what to do now, well he knew what he wanted to do and that was to strip the witcher down so that he could worship every inch of him but he’s unsure if Geralt would be on board with that. Instead, he rolled his hips up again, letting out a breath when he heard a small groan from Geralt and pushed his hips up even harder until finally Geralt got the message and ground his hips down to meet his, the friction enough to have his dick twitch a little as he let out a small moan.

It’s a shame that he was still being pinned, his hands held firmly above his head and the witcher’s legs holding his own open which kept his hips mostly grounded and left him little to do but whine as he wanted nothing more than to kiss Geralt, to slide a hand under his shirt and dig his nails into the man’s back in pleasure.

He must have been obvious in his desires, hell he may have even said it but suddenly Geralt is leaning down, his weight settling comfortably over him and forcing him still, which is a fact that he is probably enjoying a bit too much, as their lips met.

He was used to soft and slow, to the kisses where they took their time just to feel and appreciate each other and were all too easy to get lost in, but this was feral, primal almost, as they bit and licked and made wanton noises as they rutted against each other in the middle of the clearing.

On a normal day he might feel embarrassed about the fact that neither of them bothered to remove clothes or at least get a hand around each other, they just stayed like that, hips grinding against each other as they sought the friction they craved. 

It was when Geralt moved to bite his shoulder, knowing that he would be left with a dark and very obvious mark for days signifying that he was taken as well as the witchers accompanying growl of his name that finally pushed him over the edge with a shout of Geralt’s name. His vision went white for a second and he could feel the witcher reclaim his mouth in a kiss that was more teeth than anything before it was with a guttural growl of his name and a shiver of the man above him that he came too.

They took a moment to catch their breath, Geralt still had him pinned against the grass and it was when he tried to move his hands that the witcher seemed apologetic as he removed his grip, only Geralt also went to move away from him and that was something he couldn’t allow.

Just as Geralt sat back on his knees to no doubt go and brood at how he ‘used’ him again he quickly leaned forward and tackled him back against the grass so that he now had Geralt pinned and quickly brought him into a kiss, something slow and gentle.

“I know what you’re thinking Geralt and I won’t let you get in your head again”

“But-“

“But that was hot as fuck and if I have a say, which I do, we’ll definitely be doing it again” At Geralt’s grunt he just pressed their lips together again to stop whatever rebuttal the witcher could conjure up “think of it as an incentive to train with you because I’m sure you’re not going to go down as easily next time”

“Oh now I know you can fight I’ll be going a lot harder” The amusement he could see in the witcher’s eyes told him all he needed, and he let out a pleased hum when he finally felt Geralt’s arms wrap around him, pulling him closer against his chest whilst a hand tangled in his hair to angle him for another kiss that he could hardly refuse.

“Can I request next time that we do it with fewer clothes, I feel kinda gross right now” He winced a little as he sat back up in Geralt’s lap and felt his drying come stick to him and his breeches and given the similar look from the witcher he was clearly in the same boat.

Strong hands on his hips maneuvered him off of the witcher and he was sure at this point that Geralt definitely had a thing for using his enhanced strength to move him around but suddenly the witcher was standing and offered him a hand to also help him up.

“Put the swords away, there’s a stream not too far where we can wash up” He just nodded and pressed a quick kiss to Geralt’s lips before he grabbed the discarded swords and put them in their holsters, scowling a little when he saw the pensive but knowing gaze of his wolf laying not too far away.

“Don’t you judge me, you wanted this” the wolf’s face changed imperceptibly, and he knew that if it could, it would just raise an eyebrow at him as a challenge “You would have done the exact same so don’t give me all that, you’re supposed to be on my side”

He’s sure if it could the wolf would have rolled his eyes at him, but his thoughts turn away from that when he felt the lark next to him, smiling as it settled on his shoulder and he brought a finger to pet it even as it tried to playfully nibble at him “See the lark agrees with me, you’re just trying to spoil our fun”

“Jaskier, before dark please” He looked back to see Geralt staring impatiently at him so he simply turned, stuck his tongue out at his wolf who just lay it’s head back down on its paws before he went to join the witcher, the lark leaving him for Geralt’s shoulder to chirp happily in his ear whilst they walked hand in hand to the stream.

*********

Unsurprisingly that isn’t their last training session and they almost always ended the same, with both of them rutting against each other like animals in heat. Not that he was complaining, any excuse to have the witcher over him was good enough to him, and whilst they had yet to have full-blown sex he couldn’t help but feel so much closer to Geralt, glad that he could be privy to every aspect of the witcher, whatever that may entail.

Right now though he was in a small clearing watching over Roach whilst Geralt finished his latest contract, a kikimora which Geralt had insisted was too dangerous for him to tag along, but really it was only the fact that he’d seen the witcher fight a couple already that had him stay back.

His mind was already turning to later that evening, of a warm fire, hot food, and a proper bed to sleep in for once, hell he might even persuade Geralt to let him suck him off, not that the witcher typically refused such an offer. 

His dick twitched half-heartedly at the thought, and whilst he was tempted to lower a hand and start to stroke himself to tease Geralt when he would finally return victorious, a growl from his wolf brought him out of his thoughts.

In the dark of the evening he could barely make out the figures, but from the low light of the moon he could see what appeared to be two people awkwardly slinking towards him, but their walk was off and it seemed something that they weren’t used to, his trepidation only grew as his wolf’s snarls got louder and Roach nickered nervously beside him.

He put a hand out to stroke her neck in an effort to calm her, but it only worked until his wolf darted into the night snarling and howling as he heard it fight whatever the beasts were. It was clear they weren’t human as they didn’t even shout when he heard the wolf tear through flesh, and he didn’t hesitate as he quickly dug through his bag still on Roach’s saddle to find the set of silver knives Geralt had gifted him after that first night with the werewolf.

He heard a whine from his wolf then and panic flared through him as he snatched the knives and ran towards the noise, only when one of the figures became somewhat discernible did he throw the first knife, glad when he heard a gurgling hiss as he threw a second and watched the figure fall to the ground.

From the sound of it, his wolf was tearing through the second, so he ran up to the one he downed and swore as he recognized it for a drowner, he pulled his knives out and stabbed it a few extra times just to be sure it was dead before he turned to his wolf and ran his hands through its fur to look for injuries.

If it was hurt he couldn’t feel it and it was only when the wolf began nudging at his chest that he took a breath to relax. It was then he thought back to the little rhyme he had made when Geralt had first told him about them, one which Geralt outwardly disliked and called stupid.

_drowners drowners brainless dead,_   
_hunt in packs to drag to water bed_  
 _to them, silver is a bitcher, whether sword or a witcher_

At the mention of the witcher he thought of Geralt, something must be wrong if drowners were able to pass his guard and he felt his panic flare again as he quickly got to his feet and ran in the direction Geralt had gone earlier, not needing to say a word as his wolf took the lead to track him down.

He heard them before he saw them, snarling and hissing as they clamored through the sparse woodland, likely going back to their nest, and when he saw them his heart sank. Geralt was on the ground lifeless and even in the dark could see the ruin of his armor that still clung to him.

Briefly, he recalled Geralt telling him that drowners liked to drag their prey back to water to let them rot for a few days before eating them, silently thankful that the witcher wasn’t half-eaten at this point as he got closer, his knives at the ready as his wolf quickly barrelled into the first monster.

It was a lot harder to throw in the dark, and no doubt the fact that Geralt was lifeless on the floor didn’t help his aim but still he managed to injure a couple of them enough for his wolf to tear through them and left them to quietly hiss on the floor.

Through the carnage he made it to Geralt, his hands fluttering uselessly above his body unsure where he could touch as the smell of blood hit his nose, a gentle press on the witcher’s chest had him pull it away sticky with blood and he felt his heart stop at the sight.

He grabbed at Geralt’s face then, turning it this way and that to try and get a reaction as he felt tears edge his vision. He pulled Geralt’s face close to his then and let out a small sob of relief when he felt the slight pulse of his heart against the pale, too pale, skin of his neck before he gently placed him back down but not letting go just yet “Don’t you fucking dare die now otherwise I’m gonna find a way to resurrect you and kill you myself you stupid oaf, I never even got to say I lo-“

His speech turned into a scream as he felt claws tearing across the back of his left shoulder and he faintly heard a snarl before the claws were gone and left only searing pain. Gritting through the agony coursing through him he turned his head and saw his wolf still trying to fight the few drowners around them, but he could hear the animal panting and knew it wouldn’t be long before one of them got the killing blow and there was no way in whatever realm he was going to let that happen.

He turned and inspected the ground around them, until a short way back he saw the light of the moon glint off the sword he had been looking for and ignoring the pain that had started to dull as adrenaline took over, he grabbed it and got to his feet, charging towards the monsters and slashing one down that had almost got a hand on his wolf.

He took the heat of the monsters for a moment and let his wolf retreat back a little to recuperate and it was only with a couple of broad swings to keep the three left at a distance that he stepped back to stand guard over Geralt’s body, his wolf standing beside him and although he knew it was tired, saw it get into a defensive pose ready to strike, but that’s not what he needed right now.

“You need to go back and get Roach, chase her here, she’ll know” He aimed a brief look at his wolf before once again swinging the sword randomly just to keep the drowners at bay, but still he could make out the snarl of his wolf that told him it refused to leave him here “We need Geralt’s potions, to get him to help and I can’t, won’t, risk leaving you here alone” His wolf still refused to move but he could see it’s hesitation now and didn’t waste a moment as he slashed down one of the drowners that ran up to them before facing the other two “You were always faster than me anyway, go, now”

He felt a bit of relief as he saw the wolf turn to run away from them, to safety, and he could be sure that no matter what happened here at least the wolf was safe.

Once again the drowners approached him and again he swung, all his training left him as he desperately tried to keep them back and away from Geralt. Whilst he had undoubtedly gotten better at fighting with a sword, Geralt had been somewhat easier on him and even if he wanted to try and fight them, they were far too fast for him to try and pull tricks on.

In the faint light, he caught sight of Geralt lying still on the floor, and all he could do was steel himself as he once again charged at them, able to strike one of them but not enough to down it and he cursed as the sword got stuck in its body. He was fully prepared to feel the second drowner strike him as he held the first one away as it tried to reach him from the sword edge, but just as he was about to duck away and abandon the sword there was a flitter of movement in front of the drowner that distracted the monster for a moment.

He silently thanked the lark as he kicked his foot out to finally release the sword from the first drowner and quickly swung it into the second one just as the lark flew away from it. The thud at the sound of its head hitting the floor was far more satisfying than it should be as he turned to the final drowner, the monster staggering towards him, slower now after already having been impaled on the sword.

Before he could strike at it again, a flash of white leaped out from behind him and he lost all fight then as he saw his wolf tear into the final monster, feeling the ache in his arm now sore and heavy from holding the sword not suited to him.

Relatively safe now he dropped the sword and turned back to Geralt and knelt beside him as he whistled out for Roach, impatiently twitching as she walked over to him and he all but tore through the bags to find the swallow potion Geralt had told him about months prior.

The fact that it was night didn’t help matters but eventually, he found the dull gold potion and with his teeth tore the cork off before tugging away what little armor was left to pour the potion over the witcher’s slashed and impaled chest. When done he threw the bottle to the side, ignoring the disapproving voice in his head that sounded a lot like Geralt as he wrapped his arms around the witcher to try and get him up and onto Roach.

Luckily the horse seemed to sense his growing distress and frustration when he could barely lift Geralt’s chest off of the ground and instead lay beside them which made it a lot easier to try and push and move Geralt over to her. His wolf also came to help nudge and provide extra support to get him on and when Geralt was somewhat mounted he kept a hand on him to keep him stable whilst Roach carefully struggled to stand back up.

Without wasting another minute he mounted her and sat behind Geralt, wrapping an arm around the witchers limp body as the other reached for the torn reins but with a kick of his heels they were off, his wolf once again taking the front to lead them to the closest town whilst Roach followed.

It’s when Geralt’s lark stood on the witchers shoulder, clawing and pecking and tugging at any part of the witcher that it could that he made the sick observation of how the roles had reversed from when he was cursed.

Instead of dwelling on it and working himself into a greater panic he just spurred Roach to go faster and he just prayed to whatever deities were out there, good, evil, hell even destiny that Geralt survived this.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm warning you now this is a really chapter, i was tempted to split it but I promised one more so here it is. Thank you, everyone, for reading and sticking with me, I hope you enjoyed it :D  
> Also it's been a while since I've written smut so dont hate me

Keeping Geralt balanced as Roach ran to the nearest town proved to be its own challenge, cursing the couple of times that he actually had to slow the horse down to better balance the witcher lest he fall off the saddle and injure himself further.

As the cool evening wind whipped around them the adrenaline began to leave his body and left his clawed shoulder a constant throb of pain, wincing a couple of times as he felt what was left of his doublet get stuck to the wound from the now dried blood. Not just that but his limbs started to feel heavier and the edges of vision got darker, whether from blood loss or just coming down from the fight he didn’t know, but as he saw lights begin to twinkle between the trees he felt a faint trickle of hope and quickly began to shout for aid.

It wasn’t the town Geralt had taken the contract from, which had been nothing more than a few houses and meant that he and Geralt had had to sleep outside due to the lack of an inn, but he figured that may have been intentional by his wolf. A bigger town meant they were likely to have a healer and he would tear through every home and hovel until he found someone to help them.

Luckily his shouts were answered, and he was greeted by a few townspeople when they finally entered the town, even in the dark he could make out the sweat coating Roach and not for the first time he promised to make it up to her.

“Healer, we need a healer now, please-“

“Calm down lad, let’s get him down first” He wanted to shout and scream that they didn’t have time to calm down, that for all he knew Geralt could be dead, but still he helped ease the witcher off the horse and into the waiting arms of what looked to be some of the town’s farmers given their strong build.

He heard shouting and saw people begin to run in varying directions as he got off of Roach before he saw someone take her away, sparing her only a final glance before he was running after the men struggling to carry Geralt to who he presumed to be the healer. A soft touch of feathers on his neck startled him and he quickly brought the lark into his hands to stroke a hand through it’s down to not only comfort it but himself.

“He’ll be alright, he’s always alright” It’s a whine from his wolf that took him out of those thoughts, of what could be and might happen and it’s with a slight, insistent tug of his wolf’s teeth on his sleeve that had him running to catch up to the unconscious witcher now being ushered through a doorway across the street.

By the time they make it into the house, Geralt was being placed onto a bed and he quickly shoved his way to his side, his wolf growling at anyone who protested his actions as he made quick of stripping down what little was left of the witchers armor.

He faintly heard a woman’s voice and then suddenly the room was emptying, but still, he didn’t take his eyes off of the witcher, his chest now stripped he first checked Geralt’s pulse and almost cried at the faintest flutter of a pulse against his fingers before he moved his hand to brush now blood matted hair out of his face.

When he felt someone push up beside him he was ready to let out his own snarl until he saw the herbs and bandages in her hands and reluctantly moved away to give her space, faltering when he heard rushed murmurs fall from the witcher’s lips, one of which almost sounded like his name, but it was only the cluck of disapproval and a push from her that finally had him move away.

Instead, he moved to the other side of the bed and quickly pulled the witcher’s hand into his own, ignoring the side glance the healer gave him as she worked on mixing some sort of salve with a variety of herbs and what strangely looked like a witcher’s potion, swallow, just as he’d given Geralt.

“What happened to him, need to know if he was poisoned” 

“I-I don’t know” It was at her displeased stare that he barely bit back his own remark and continued “He had a contract for a kikimora, I was waiting a little ways out the forest when two drowners came, I went after him and he was – he- he was being dragged by more drowners”

“And the drowners just graciously handed the witcher over to you did they”

He couldn’t keep back his scowl at her dismissal, Geralt was likely on his deathbed and she was here making jabs “They won’t be bothering anyone anymore, now can you help him or not”

She stared at him for a moment, as if assessing whether the story was true or not, but the fact that she was doing nothing did little to settle his nerves, which was reflected by the warning growl of his wolf which finally startled the healer to get back into her work, almost as if she hadn’t noticed the animal before.

It was then that she started to rub the salve into his wounds which caused Geralt to yell out in pain as he writhed on the bed, he couldn’t help but flinch at the sound but still moved his hands to pin the witchers shoulders to the bed, all the while whispering assurances in Geralt’s ears that he’s sure fell on deaf ears as another shout filled the room.

He felt tears bridge his vision, hating every moment he saw the witcher in pain and yet he was still silently grateful that this held some hope that the witcher would survive this. A small smile came to his face as he saw Geralt’s lark fly to stand next to the witchers head, gently rubbing itself against the witcher’s face as if to ask if he was okay as well as offering some branch of comfort, and it seemed that with the lark beside him Geralt did calm down a little, his shouts reduced to broken ramblings as he lay limp in the bed.

Another look at the woman had her frown at them for a moment before she turned her head to his wolf that now lay at the foot of the bed, staring right at her as if to make sure she did her job properly. He was ready to make another biting comment but only just held his tongue, this woman was helping them after all and in a way she was right to question them, witchers, after all, weren’t supposed to have soulmates, and yet, here they were.

Thankfully she was done with the salve and through the blood-red mess that was Geralt’s chest began to bandage up the claw marks, as well as a wound which looked as if something had been impaled on Geralt’s stomach, something that he really didn’t want to think about right now.

“Is he going to make it”

The healer met him with a leveled stare and his stomach dropped at the sight, already expecting the worst as his hands move from Geralt’s shoulders so that one can resume holding his lax hand and the other to cup the side of the witcher’s face, wanting to touch and comfort both he and Geralt as much as he could as if that would help him heal.

“If he makes it through the night he’ll live” He let out a breath then, relief flooding at the verdict, it was doable, but from her frown, she disagreed “I wouldn’t get your hopes up just yet, I’ve done what I can but your witcher took a beating and there’s still a chance infection could set in and I don’t think he’ll be strong enough to fight that”

He swallowed then, looking back down at Geralt who was now lax, at peace almost if it wasn’t for the small furrow he could see between the witchers eyebrows, giving a small smile when he moved his thumb to smooth it out, and whilst Geralt normally got the message to relax, here he didn’t and he took it for a sign that the witcher was still fighting to get back to him.

“He means a lot to you” Her words startled him for a moment before giving a small nod, even as he tried to sit closer to Geralt’s side as if to reaffirm her statement “And do you mean a lot to him?”

“Yes, although he’ll never admit to it” Just like his wolf he felt his hackles rise slightly at the comment, but right now he didn’t have the energy to fight her, let her keep her prejudices if she wanted but he knew the truth.

“He’ll come around someday, soulmates always do” His eyes darted up to her then only to see a small smile on her face and amusement in her eyes as she looked to his wolf and then to Geralt. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen or heard of a witcher soulmate before but…I’m glad, everyone deserves to have someone”

He offered her his own weak smile before he once again turned to look at Geralt, his thumb now stroking along his cheek as if to draw the witcher back to him, refusing to think about the alternative. It was then that he saw the healer stand and go back to her bag before he returned to his task, to keep Geralt alive at any and all cost, but so deep in thought he didn’t even notice the healer walk back over to him until she tentatively touched his shoulder, giving small hiss in pain as she examined him.

“Your turn now, you’ll need to have some milk of the poppy first, unlike our dear witcher here you’ll need stitches for these” He winced then but still took the small cup offered to him and eagerly drank it, wanting to just get it over with.

The healer then methodically cleaned his wounds before putting on some salve, different to the one used on Geralt but one that still had him clench his fists and all but bite his tongue off to keep back his scream before he was being stitched up, his shoulder now numb and the pain became more of a distant memory as the painkiller finally kicked in.

He offered a weak thank you in return which earned him a small pat on the shoulder before the healer grabbed her supplies, leaving only what looked like a pot of salve and a couple of rolls of bandages behind. “His healing will do most of the work but if his bandages get wet you need to change them and in a few hours more salve will need to be applied”

He just nodded that he understood and with that, she left, leaving nothing but a deafening silence broken only by the ragged gasp from Geralt or a chirp from his lark, now nestled against the witchers neck as it was want to do and the sight, blood still smeared across Geralt’s face and matted in his hair, broke something in him.

Finally, he let his tears flow, he curled himself around the prone form of the witcher and carefully rest his forehead against his shoulder as he felt a sob wrack through him, all whilst he gave desperate pleas for Geralt to keep fighting, to survive this and not leave him behind, especially after they had just found each other.

He’s sure he felt Geralt’s hand in his twitch just slightly and the fact had his own hand give a reassuring squeeze before pressing a wet kiss to bloodied knuckles. As much as he wanted to lay beside the witcher, to curl up against him as close as he dared, just to feel the warmth of him and the life still beating in his chest, his job was still far from done and they were only past one of many hurdles.

With a final kiss to Geralt’s knuckles he moved off of the bed, a quick look around the room told him someone had taken their bags off of Roach and put them in the corner, something he was silently grateful for as he carefully pulled on one of Geralt’s shirts, mindful of his wound before he caught the faint smell of Geralt that clung to most of his things, something he drew comfort from now.

Next, he went to his discarded and ruined doublet and with a bit of effort managed to pull it into rags, and grabbing some of the cleaner pieces and one of their waterskins, moved to sit back on the bed and begin the task of washing the blood off of his witcher in the hope that he would look somewhat more alive. It was going to be a long night.

********

He didn’t know what time it was when he heard a tentative knock at the door and the healer poke her head into the room a second later, all he knew was that light had begun to filter through the small window on the opposite wall and he was currently keeping a cool cloth on Geralt’s head when he had started to sweat and become almost feverish.

Something sick curled in his gut that despite their effort the witcher likely had an infection and had only a matter of hours to live, but that thought was stopped at the feel of a gentle hand on his shoulder, the touch caused him to jump but he was met with a warm smile which he tried his best to reciprocate but he felt came out more of a grimace.

“You look half dead, were you up all night?” He just gave a tired nod, it had been a challenge to keep himself up, but he’d busied his hands throughout the night to keep himself occupied, having both the lark and his wolf either peck or paw at him when his eyes closed for too long “I admire your dedication but you’re healing too and you’ll do him no favors if you keel over from exhaustion”

He just let out a small hum as the healer gave him a fond look before removing the bandages he’d put on only a few hours ago, she tentatively inspected the wounds on Geralt’s chest which even he could see had begun to heal shut at the edges, that feeling of hope he’d squashed only moments ago coming back in full force.

“Well it appears your work paid off, he’ll live, provided nothing else happens to him over the next few days” The cool wash of relief flowed through him then and had his head fall to rest lightly on the witcher’s chest, simply taking a moment to feel the thrum of life below him, knowing that he would be okay, that they would be okay “I can’t say when he’ll wake but it’s best to let him rest as long as he can, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need and I’ll bring some food through in a minute”

He turned to her then, a genuine smile on his face as he took her hands, thank you’s falling freely from his lips at which she just chuckled at, at least until he quickly stood from his chair to make his way over to his bags. He pulled out his coin purse, only about half full, he had intended to replenish it in the town they were due to collect the kikimora contract, but he brushed that thought aside as he offered it to her.

At first, the healer had been quick to deny his offer, insisting that it was her job to look after others but he was persistent, and after he labeled off the reasons, not just her hospitality and care but the help of the townsfolk who he had no chance of remembering, she graciously accepted it before leaving to get them food.

Now that he had been reassured that Geralt would live he started to let go of some of the tension that had made its home in him over the last few hours and made his way back to the bed, going to the opposite side of the bed to Geralt before climbing in beside him. After sparing a final look at the witcher he carefully curled around his body so as not to disturb him, which basically consisted of his head on the witcher’s shoulder and Geralt’s hand in his, but it was better than anything else he could’ve wanted.

It’s not much longer that the wolf also moved closer to them, instead, it tried to curl up between Geralt’s legs and rest both its head and one of its front paws on his thigh, and although it looked far from comfortable given the wolfs size, still it remained there. He felt his heart break a little when he saw his wolf begin to nose at Geralt’s leg a little as if trying to nudge him awake, but it was only when he lowered his free hand to stroke through the soft fur on its head that it finally stopped, amber eyes reflecting that of his witcher aimed up at him as the wolf let out a low whine.

“He’s gonna be okay, the lady’s taking good care of him” He offered a weak smile when his wolf moved its head to lick at the hand stroking it, and he knew the wolf was seeking comfort then just as much he was “I miss him too”

It was with a final nibble of sharp teeth on his wrist that his wolf once again rest his head on Geralt’s thigh offering a final weak smile at the sight before he raised his head a little to look at the lark still resting at Geralt’s neck. This time he didn’t need to say anything, the lark moved from its position to get close to him and nuzzle against his forehead for a moment before laying there to keep that contact between him and Geralt.

It’s like that that he quickly found himself falling asleep, and although it was somewhat restless, when he finally awoke a few hours later, the late afternoon sun cast a golden hue across the room and he felt decidedly better than he had that morning, although that was likely due to the little bit of color he could see had returned to Geralt’s already too pale complexion.

A quick look around the room showed a plate with some bread, meat, and cheese that hadn’t been there before and he sat up in the bed, wincing a little at the tug of the stitches in his back and took a breath when he finally relaxed against the headrest. He leaned over to reach for the plate and took a bite of the bread, but it felt dry and tasteless in his mouth and everything else looked wholly unappetizing as Geralt lay still beside him, and it was only through sheer will that he finally swallowed it.

He offered the food to his wolf and the lark who didn’t seem too eager to eat the food either, and yet they still ate it, likely to appease him. Putting the plate back on the side, he left the bed, stretching as much as he dared until pain tugged at his shoulder before he left the room to search for some water and maybe wash Geralt for the umpteenth time just for something to do.

Slowly, he peeked around the doorway to what he assumed was the kitchen and saw the healer just puttering around the room, not wanting to startle her he quietly knocked on the frame and was met with a kind smile that he couldn’t help but warm up to.

“Sorry to bother you, but do you have any water I can use just to clean up my… my partner”

“Of course” He isn’t given long to look around the quaint homestead before a small bowl of water is being put into his hands, but before he can turn back to their room she’s got a hand on his shoulder keeping him in place “Before you go, your horse, she’s proving…difficult. The men were hardly able to get her into the stable and she’s restless and refusing to eat any food, maybe you could-“

“Yeah I’ll check on her, poor thing must be worried about Geralt” He didn’t have time to think about her confused glare at his comment, but then again she’d probably get even more confused if he tried to explain the nuance in the relationship between Geralt and Roach, hell even he struggled to understand it at times.

With a final thank you, he head back into the room, he gave a quick glance to the bed and when satisfied nothing had change put the bowl of water onto the small table in the corner before going to open the window in the room, stopping only briefly to trail a gentle hand across Geralt’s cheek before heading towards the door.

“Keep an eye on him” He gave a pointed gaze to the wolf who looked at him for a minute before going back to lay its head on Geralt’s leg before he turned to the small lark nestled in the white hair fanned across the pillow “Get me if anything happens, understand?” He gave the lark a pointed look before looking towards the window and the small bird just gave a small chirp in acknowledgment before he left the room, ignoring the heavy feeling in his chest that tried to tell him that something bad would happen if he left Geralt alone.

He didn’t doubt that the animals would keep watch over him, but it was a wholly different experience being away from the witcher's side, he felt more helpless and he knew he would only have himself to blame if anything were to happen.

Through the fading light of the setting sun, he managed to find the stables, almost on completely the other side of the town, made longer by the small stop at the inn to get a few apples and some sugar cubes, but it didn’t take much longer to spot Roach as she paced in her stall.

“Hey girl, how you holding up” At the sound of his voice Roach turned to him and whinnied as he approached, clearly eager to hear what was happening and he didn’t hesitate to stroke a hand across her neck in an effort to calm her “He’s okay, he’ll be okay he’s just resting now, you did so good bringing us here”

As he murmured gentle reassurances and praise he felt Roach become calmer under his touch and it didn’t take much to convince her to eat the treats he had gotten her, apparently content in the knowledge that Geralt would be alright.

He had intended just to pay the horse a visit, to calm her down enough so that she could rest and eat but now that he’s seen her he wanted to do more for her, she’s earned it of course, but he also wanted to take care of her to appease Geralt when he woke up.

A quick look around had him find a couple of brushes and with a few gentle words stepped into the stall with her and began the slow task of brushing her coat. The gentle brushing was somewhat relaxing to both of them, the menial task kept his hands busy and his mind occupied away from thoughts of Geralt alone in the room.

Once done he took a quick moment to check her shoes, tutting a little as he saw one that was a little worse for wear and made a quick promise to the horse to try and get it fixed before they left again, earning a small nicker and a gentle nudge for his effort as he stroked his hand down her neck and laughed a little.

Next, he took to combing through her mane, smiling slightly as he saw Roach begin to eat the oats that had been given to her as he weaved his fingers through her hair to braid it. He could already picture Geralt’s frown at the sight of the braid and his scolding that Roach wasn’t a damn doll to be played with, but the thought soured as he thought to where Geralt was now, chest torn open as he struggled to fight off his wounds.

With a final pat to Roach’s neck, he took a step back, but the horse didn’t pay him any mind, clearly not appreciating his artistry any more than Geralt would have, but couldn’t help but look on somewhat fond at the sight “Just you wait Roach, I’ll get you and our witcher in matching braids eventually, maybe a couple of dandelions weaved into the braids here and-“

He was stopped in his efforts at pinpointing the exact locations he intended to put the flowers as she gently shook her head before returning to her food, and he could only roll his eyes at the sight before giving her a final pat as he left, leaving the last couple of apples on the side for her as he left the stall with the promise of coming back the next day.

It was fully dark by the time he made it back to the healer’s house and after a quick knock on the front door, he’s welcomed back in with the news that dinner would be ready in an hour or so. He gave an appreciative nod and a quiet thank you before he eagerly retired back to the room, intent to check on the witcher and make sure nothing had happened to him, even though logically he knew the chances were slim, especially as the lark hadn’t visited him.

There was no change in the room when he stepped back in, Geralt still lay motionless on the bed, his wolf still between his legs and the lark nestled against the crook of his neck and the sight brought a small smile to his face even as he quickly walked over to put his fingers against the witchers to feel for a pulse, letting out the breath he’d been holding when he felt it, stronger now, under his fingers.

With the lack of anything to do and not willing to retire from his vigilance he looked at the discarded pieces of armor he’d practically torn off the night before.

He frowned at the chest piece, torn beyond repair, and he made a note to ask about a leatherworker in the town before he turned to some of the other pieces, most of which had survived thank the gods before he reached for the water he’d brought in earlier and after a quick feel around in his bag for some soap, he began the task of cleaning the parts that were salvageable.

However, the task is over with far too soon and he was soon looking around for his next task, eager to just do something, anything to take his mind off of things when his eyes caught the sword holster leaning against the corner of the room.

Without hesitating he pulled out both of the swords, grimacing a little at the blackened blood and ichor staining the silver sword and quickly took it to the water bowl to begin the arduous process of washing it. He had to refill the bowl a couple of times before it was clean, letting out a small sigh of satisfaction when he was done, and whilst he may be confident in his abilities to sharpen said sword, he wasn’t willing to risk his head being chewed off by Geralt.

Cleaning the steel sword was unnecessary, but he did so just to fill the time, and when done gave a final swipe of the cloth across both swords before putting them back into the holster and back into the corner.

By the time the woman knocked on the door again to bring in two hot bowls of stew, he had already unpacked and reorganized all of their bags, having long been in tune with how Geralt liked his things ordered before taking his place in the chair at the witchers bedside.

Thankfully, the stew went down better than the lunch and he made quick work of eating it before returning to his spot on the bed beside the witcher, intent to keep up his vigil as long as he could before he inevitably fell into a restless sleep.

********

He felt groggy and disorientated when he finally woke up, first rubbing at his tired eyes in an effort to clear his vision before turning to look at Geralt, still sleeping beside him. He couldn’t help but sigh at the sight, he’s more than grateful that the witcher is safe and alive, but he missed Geralt’s grunts and whispered praise, the gentle hand that would always card through his hair or down his back when he woke up and his heart ached at the thought.

A brief look at the window did little to help determine what time it was, grey light entered the room which made him question whether it was simply overcast or the dull light just before dawn. No matter anyway, he wouldn’t fall back to sleep, instead he would check over Geralt’s wounds and make sure they were healing well before washing the witcher with a cool cloth, only when he went to leave the bed he felt Geralt’s hand holding his.

He frowned at the sight, sure he had probably spent most of the last day and a half holding the witcher's hand and willing him to just survive, but he had pointedly kept his distance on the bed last night in an effort to keep back the temptation of hugging close to the witcher and risk injuring him in his sleep.

That meant one of two things, either he unconsciously grabbed Geralt’s hand in his sleep, which wasn’t that much of a stretch to be fair, or the witcher had woken up at some point and taken it on himself to get some contact with him. The thought had his heart skip a beat and he quickly turned back towards the witcher, all sleep left his body as he cupped a gentle hand to Geralt’s face, his thumb stroking softly against his cheek as he quietly called out to him.

It’s a matter of minutes of receiving no response that he finally gave up trying to wake the witcher, trying to ignore the vice-like grip in his chest for a moment before he finally left the bed. He only made it halfway across the room, intent on finally changing his clothes into something more reasonable than two-day old breeches and one of Geralt’s shirt when he heard a low strained grunt from the bed.

He froze then, paused mid-step as nothing but silence reigned throughout the room until he heard it again, a low guttural moan, undeniably from Geralt and in the blink of an eye, he was at the bedside, one hand on Geralt’s chest with the other returning to stroke a thumb on his face as he let the other man gradually wake up.

It’s only when dark gold eyes meet his that he finally breathed, his body almost falling limp at the relief that flowed through him as he felt tears in the corner of his eyes. He didn’t even realize he’d begun to cry until a warm, heavy hand brushed his cheek and he eagerly leaned into the touch, giving the other man a weak smile as he closed his eyes, letting himself enjoy this moment for however long it would last.

It’s only when he felt Geralt move below him, likely intending to sit up, that he quickly came back to himself and was pushing at the witcher’s shoulders to keep him in place on the bed “Hey hey, you need to stay in bed, you were hurt pretty bad”

Geralt still tried to sit up for a moment longer before he collapsed back with a wince, glazed eyes looking up at him before he spoke, his voice hoarse and sounded on the verge of painful “What happened? Where-“

“Don’t worry about that right now, wait here a minute” Geralt just gave him a stare that even in his current state challenged his statement, as if the witcher could even get up anyway, but he just rolled his eyes as he grabbed the waterskin he had left on the bedside, and just as Geralt had done when they were back in Yennefer’s mansion, sat the witcher up just a little so that he could tilt his head back and give him a careful sip of water.

Thankfully, Geralt didn’t seem to shy at the touch, a part of him had thought that after this injury Geralt may be unwilling to be so close to him, to isolate himself as he recovered and the thought had him unsettled him, but the warm hand that gripped around his wrist that was feeding the witcher some water told otherwise.

He finally pulled the waterskin away, but when he turned to face the witcher he already found golden eyes boring into him, and he couldn’t help but blush a little under the scrutiny before he cast his eyes down and grabbed onto the witcher's hand in an effort to ground himself somewhat.

“Jaskier” At the sound of his name he looked back up at Geralt, who once again had the characteristic furrow between his brows, and he didn’t hesitate to smooth it with his fingers, smiling slightly as he saw the witchers face relax just a little at the touch “What happened? I should be rotting at the bottom of some lake right now”

His face hardened at that, as if Geralt doubted his abilities to look after him even now, and whilst he wasn’t the best or most adept fighter, he would easily die trying to protect those he held close to him and it irked him that Geralt still didn’t seem to understand that.

“I was waiting by Roach as you told me-”

“Makes a change”

He just leveled the witcher with a dirty look, which only lasted a second at the small smile he could make out on Geralt’s face, before he continued “Two drowners came up on us, we took care of them but I got worried, so we ran after you, you- I thought-“

“I’m okay, Jaskier”

“I thought you were dead Geralt, I saw you on the floor, blood everywhere and I panicked, I- we-“

He stopped as he choked on his words, one of the few times he fumbled over his words, until Geralt’s free hand rested on his knee, the warm heavy weight of it grounding him just as much as his words “Shh, I’m here”

“We killed the rest of them, and we got here as fast as we could, fuck Geralt, don’t you dare fucking do that to me again do you understand or else I’ll bring you back just so I can kill you myself” There were tears in eyes, whether from anger or just at the sheer agony of losing Geralt caused him he didn’t know, probably both,

“You killed all those drowners?” He just nodded in response, trying to ignore the look of astonishment on the witcher's face, even if he had to stop himself from preening at the praise.

“Looks like your knives came in useful after- shit, the knives, I left them-“ Once again he was intercepted by Geralt, the hand on his thigh now moving to stroke gently up and down his thigh as if to soothe his worry, as if he’d been the one hurt.

“It’s okay, Jaskier, I can get you some more if you want, what matters is that you’re here”

“You sure you didn’t suffer some sort of brain damage?” He just gave the witcher a puzzled look, sure Geralt worried over him but he had lost a set of silver knives that the witcher had saved up over a few months to gift him and he was surprised not to even get a look of disappointment at his forgetfulness, even though the circumstances were excusable.

“Am I not allowed to be proud that you took down a nest of drowners?”

He paused then, feeling a small inkling of pride trickle through him that he’d done the witcher proud and he could barely hold back from puffing out his chest a little to preen at the praise “Well I never said that” 

Geralt huffed a laugh before bringing their hands still linked together up closer so that he could press a kiss against his knuckles, amber eyes never leaving his as they conveyed every emotion the witcher’s words couldn’t “Thank you Jaskier, for looking after me”

“Don’t be stupid, of course I’d look after you” They stare at each other for another moment, trying to convey every emotion from his pain, to relief, to love just through his gaze until the air around them became palpable, even to him.

It lasted only a moment before Geralt moved a little and with a grunt looked away from him to instead inspect his chest, poking a little at the cuts now mostly healed but still looking too raw, too fresh, to allow the witcher ease, a verdict Geralt apparently didn’t agree with.

“Chest healed nicely, can leave in the hour if we get our supplies ready” He just stared at the witcher dumbfounded and offended for suggesting such a thing.

“Are you fucking serious, you’re in no state to leave Geralt” He silenced the witchers protest with a stern look before he continued “A couple of days rest at least and I won’t hear any more arguing”

“Jaskier, I’m fine, give me something to eat and a chance to get used to being back on my feet and we-“

“I said no Geralt, I will sit on you if I have to keep you in that bed”

“Is that a promise?” He saw Geralt’s eyes twinkle with mischief and he couldn’t help but smile as he quirked his own eyebrow as if daring the witcher to take him up on it. Geralt hadn’t exactly been this forward with him in the past, sure they made out, and humped each other like animals in heat and if he was lucky had the witcher on his knees in front of him, even luckier if he was the one on his knees, but he expected Geralt was still on some sort of drugged delirium to be this forward with him.

That thought only lasted a minute before Geralt made an effort to get out of the bed and he didn’t even hesitate before he was scrambling off of the chair and into the lap of his witcher, forcing him to settle back into the bed with a sigh to try and hide the smile that quirked at his lips.

When he looked back up to catch Geralt’s gaze there was almost a dare in the witchers eyes, one equally matched in his own as he raised a fist in front of him which only earned a brief grunt from Geralt in question.

“Fine, you block my hand and we can leave, deal?” The answering smile on Geralt’s face told him it was accepted, a cockiness already set in the witcher's face as he prepared for the challenge, already sure in his victory, and it’s with that he moved to punch his fist into the witcher’s shoulder.

He was never going to actually hit the man given he was still pretty torn up from his recent foray with monsters, even still Geralt was quicker than he expected, but still more sluggish than normal as he grabbed the fist he had aimed at the witcher. He could already see the smile on the witcher’s face, at least until his second hand poked carefully at Geralt’s side, having gone unnoticed by the witcher, and he just gave the Geralt a challenging look as he saw the protest already on his lips.

“That’s cheating, you said to block your fist”

“If you get into a fight out there do you think whoever is fighting you is going to play by the rules?” The conceding frown on Geralt’s face is all he needed before Geralt’s hands came to rest on his hips, a slight quirk to his lips.

“I’ll let you win this one, but don’t get used to it”

He just gave a smile as he moved his head closer to Geralt’s until their foreheads were resting together, closing his eyes so that he could just breathe in everything that was distinctly Geralt and he let out a small whine as an arm wrapped around his waist to pull him even closer against the witcher while another hand tangled in his hair, keeping him close.

“I just- I need you to be okay, more than okay, I almost lost you” He’s cut of then by the gentle brush of lips against his and he let his breath out at the touch, his own hands going up to grip into the witchers hair to pull them impossibly closer to each other, needing something to ground himself as he felt himself begin to spiral “I almost lost you Geralt” He could feel the witcher try to bring him into another kiss to silence him but reluctantly he pulled away “Every moment I’ve been with you I’ve never been scared, not when that werewolf stared down at me, not when I was cursed, because I always knew you were there, but when I saw you in that forest, when I saw all that blood, Geralt, I’ve never been more scared in my life-“

This time he didn’t stop Geralt when he leaned forward to press their lips together, silencing him before he could blather out all his pain and frustration and he all but clung onto Geralt, his neck, his shoulders, his hair, any and every part he could reach just to feel the life under his touch, scared that if he let go he would be met with the witcher still lifeless on the bed. A sentiment apparently matched by Geralt who held him just as tight, pulled them as close together as he dared as he had his breath stolen by the witcher.

Too soon they parted, and it was only a moment later that he realized he had whined at the loss, barely noting the small smile on Geralt’s face as he leaned to press a small peck on his lips before he was pulling away again to look him in the face. 

He didn’t tear his eyes away from Geralt’s intent gaze and let the witcher once again pull his hands up closer to his face to place a few gentle kisses across his knuckles and palms, eyes never leaving each other as he began to speak between each kiss.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that” A kiss was placed to his wrist and he could feel his own heart flutter under the touch, no doubt Geralt could feel it too, but still he continued “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you” his arms were tugged then and made to curl around Geralt’s neck whilst a kiss was placed to his bicep “I’m sorry-“

He couldn’t help but laugh then at the absurdity that Geralt was apologizing for trying to do his job and ultimately being overwhelmed, it had happened before now and would likely happen again, the only difference is that he’d been there to provide some sort of distraction and he’d be damned if he didn’t accompany his witcher on all of his future jobs from now on. If a monster was ever going to get the best of Geralt then it would get the best of him too, an outcome he was more than willing to accept.

However, he was brought out of his wallowing by an amused look from Geralt and a small hum indicating that he should say what was so funny, but he just offered another chuckle before he buried his head into the witcher’s neck just to breathe in his scent for a minute before answering “You don’t need to apologize for anything Geralt, just don’t let a nest of drowners best you next time”

He shivered a little as he felt Geralt breathe onto his neck, and then he felt lips and the gentle brush of teeth which had him all but melt into the arms that wrapped around his chest “To be fair I was distracted” He frowned then before he pulled back to look at Geralt, a somewhat sheepish look on his face.

“By what?”

“You” His breath caught in his throat at the admission and Geralt couldn’t help but look even more guilty as he continued “I was still fighting the kikimore when I sensed the drowners and I knew they would make their way to you soon enough, I became…sloppy trying to kill it to get to you and-“

He silenced whatever Geralt planned to say next with a desperate kiss, not wanting to hear what came next, he’d seen the result, had carried Geralt’s limp body and worked tirelessly through the night to ensure his survival and it wasn’t something he intended to repeat.

Geralt was more than happy to oblige and their kiss soon became frantic once again as they tried to pull each other close, trying to say without words just what the other meant to them, barely allowing a breath of air when they part before they’re on each other again.

It was easy to get lost in each other, of the feel of hands tugging into his hair and coaxing under the edge of his shirt to stroke at his hip. His own hands clung, pulled and touched every inch of the witcher that he could and yet ever mindful of the barely closed wounds still marking his chest.

He can’t tell when, but it’s not long before their kiss goes from rough and desperate into something softer that has his heart beat just a bit faster, especially when he felt Geralt move below him, shifting to try and get them to roll over, but he held firm and kept himself perched on the witchers lap, smiling into their kiss when he heard Geralt’s grunt of protest.

“You’re hurt Geralt, just this once let me look after you” He leaned into the warm, calloused palm that cupped the side of his face before he felt fingers on his chin coaxing him to look up at the witcher and he couldn’t help but oblige.

“You’re always looking after me”

“And you’re the one always pulling me out of danger” He laughed a little then, sure he did the odd task here and there, but it was Geralt who earned the majority of their coin, who hunted food for them to eat and kept them all safe. He made sure to let that be known as he leaned forward to bring Geralt into another kiss that was more of a tease than anything, a brush of his lips, nothing more, as he pushed the witcher back so that he was laying down against the bed.

He was about to pull away again and make another remark on Geralt’s abilities but was stopped by a firm hand on the back of his head that pulled him closer to keep their lips together, and it was with a nip of teeth at his bottom lip that had him open his mouth to the witchers ministrations.

It was so easy to get lost in Geralt’s touch and he could feel eager hands pull at his shirt and breeches and he was so desperate for the touch, for Geralt’s hands on him pulling him close, and so he eagerly let the man do as he pleased, moaning when he felt strong hands palm at his ass. The fact had him grind against Geralt’s lap, even under the covers and through his clothes he could feel the hard length of him, and his efforts earned a groan from the witcher.

They quickly found a rhythm between them, rubbing and grinding against each other as his hands roamed pale skin and his breath stolen by the witcher's mouth. He would have been quite happy to come like that, they’d done it often enough in the past, but when Geralt stroked a firm hand down his back he couldn’t help but let out a small hiss in pain as it grazed his claw marks, and the effect was immediate, Geralt’s hands were off of him and a worried look on his face.

“Jaskier?”

“It’s nothing, just moved funny”

“Jaskier” There was no denying the warning in Geralt’s voice, one that told him that the witcher would persist until he knew the root of the problem and all he could do was sigh as he sat up against Geralt’s knees, toying at the hem at his shirt for a moment before he carefully took it off, wincing a little as he felt it tug at his wounds but he was just glad his shirt had been covering his face so that the witcher couldn’t see.

As soon as it was off the shirt was being pulled from his grasp and thrown off of the bed and then gentle hands were moving him so that Geralt could get a better look at his back. There was a tense moment where he expected to hear some sort of sigh or scolding, some sort of disapproval for his recklessness, but there was nothing, so when he felt the brush of fingers along one cut he couldn’t help but jump a little, quickly put at ease with a soft press of lips.

“What happened”

He offered a small smile as he turned his head towards Geralt “To be fair I was distracted” He could see the slight quirk to the witcher's lips, but his brow was still furrowed in worry as he turned back to the stitched up marks on his back.

He let Geralt inspect his injuries until he felt a hand move him back around whilst the other tangled in his hair and pulled him down to Geralt’s face until their foreheads were resting against each other, he had one hand on the mattress keeping him up whilst the other he cupped on the witchers cheek, letting them both get comfort from the touch.

“Promise me you won’t do something stupid like that again” He opened his eyes to look down at Geralt and saw golden eyes staring up into his own.

“You know I can’t” It was almost pathetic at how he practically pleaded for the witcher to let him risk his life to save him, but despite the answer, he’d undoubtedly do so again.

“Jaskier, I’m not asking you”

“And you can’t stop me, if I see you in trouble I can’t just sit there and watch”

“Gods you’re insufferable” The small quirk of Geralt’s lips and the almost fond way with which he spoke betrayed his words, and he offered his own coy smile in reply.

“You love it”

“I do” He couldn’t keep back the bright smile on his face as he looked at Geralt then, and whilst before he would have been worried about the witcher becoming closed off at such an admission, Geralt’s gaze held nothing but honesty and pure adoration and he couldn’t help but separate the small gap between to press their lips together.

This time he didn’t hesitate to make his feelings and intentions known, pulling away only briefly to pull the covers off of Geralt before settling back onto his lap to start making small circles with his hips, encouraged by rough hands on his waist that had them move just that bit more frantically against one another.

It was then that Geralt pull away from his mouth to instead press wet kisses along his neck, with just a hint of teeth here and there that threatened to leave a mark, when he felt warm, calloused hand work their way under his breeches to palm at his ass, and he couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh as Geralt used his new vantage to grind both of their still, criminally, clothed dicks together.

He was quite content to let Geralt do as he pleased, he didn’t want to push the witcher too far, especially as he’d just woken up from being at deaths doorstep, so he simply buried his head into Geralt’s neck to press a couple of light kisses under whatever skin he came across, just to feel the warmth of the body under him and the small hitches in the witchers breath every now and then.

At least that was the plan until he felt a finger gently press against his rim, not pushing in but more so to tease, and he could sense the silent question radiating off of Geralt as he felt his breath stop for a moment and after a small pause ground back slightly on the finger against him.

“Jaskier, do you-“

“Gods yes Geralt, please” He was too desperate to play coy, he would tease and torture the witcher another time, but now he quickly silenced Geralt’s breathy laugh by pressing their lips together, committing the feel of Geralt’s mouth, eager against his own, and his taste as he felt hands try to lower his pants without getting them to separate “Fuck Geralt, you have no idea how much I need you right now”

“If it’s anything like how much I need you then I’ve got a good idea”

“Alright, who are you are and what have you done with Geralt” He gave the witcher a scrupulous look even as a smile quirked at the corner of his lips and he was met with a light squeeze from the hands still roaming his ass.

“I almost lost you Jaskier and I’ll be damned if I let you go now” He smiled then, interrupted by Geralt’s lips seeking his own and he could feel it drip with adoration and love that had his heart thrum under such attentions, but then he felt Geralt move his hips slightly, grinding up against his own dick and he was suddenly brought back to their current predicament.

With a final kiss, he carefully got off of Geralt’s lap and the bed, silencing the witcher’s question with a kiss as he worked on the laces of his breeches until both his and Geralt’s hands were pulling them down with such fervor he’s sure he heard seams rip. He regrettably bats away the hand that tried to wrap around his dick and told the witcher to strip himself of his own underclothes whilst he left to go and retrieve the oil he knew was at the bottom of his bag.

When he turned back to the bed he was met with the sight of Geralt slowly stroking his dick, eyes half-lidded as he stared at him with rapt attention and he was frozen under such a gaze, only moving closer when Geralt’s other hand reached out towards him, and he eagerly made his way over to link their hands together before settling himself once again over the witcher’s lap.

Before he can even think of doing anything he’s being pulled forward and finds his lips occupied with Geralt’s, not that he would ever complain, but the feel of bare skin each other, of Geralt’s dick hard against his own length that he can’t help but grind against it, eliciting a groan from both of them, it’s almost like an itch has settled under his own skin that could only be scratched with Geralt’s touch.

Their kiss had been reduced to panting against each other as Geralt wrapped a hand around both of their dicks and slowly began to stroke them together, it was almost embarrassing how close he was already, but the sight of the discarded vial of oil beside Geralt’s head reminded him of his plans and he quickly sat up, away from the witchers eager lips but not from the teasing touch still coaxing the odd moan from him with a skilled flick of the wrist.

Without wasting time he pulled the cork sealing the vial out with his teeth, ignoring the amused look on Geralt’s face, but just as he was about to tip some of the oil onto his fingertips with the plan to open himself up for the witcher. However he was stopped by an insistent hand trying to pull the vial away from him, and it was almost funny how they fought over it without trying to spill it until Geralt stopped his efforts but still kept a firm grip on the vial.

“I know I’m injured Jaskier but I can at least open you up for me, it’ll be one of the few things I do for you that I don’t consider a chore” He’s left sputtering as he tried to think of a retort but it’s during this time the vial was pulled from his grip and he can’t help but shout a little at the audacity Geralt had of taking it. 

He tried then to reach after it but Geralt moved it further away just as fast, his other hand now reaching up to hold him back by the shoulder and all he could do was pout as he gave up trying to get back the oil lest he accidentally hurt Geralt. He won’t deny though that the thought of Geralt’s fingers inside of him, pushing him closer to the edge, was a very tempting one and had his dick give a small twitch in response, of course, he couldn’t let the witcher know that.

“Sly bastard is what you are” He aimed what he hoped was a glare at the witcher but as always lacked any real heat, especially as he felt Geralt grind up against him, eliciting another moan from him.

The sly smirk Geralt aimed at him all but confirmed his statement, but none more so than his words “Haven’t had any complaints yet”

“Well consider this your first”

“Oh no, however will I cope, forgive me please” The statement was dripping with sarcasm and he couldn’t help but both groan and laugh at it as he let the witcher move his hips further up his chest so that he could better reach his ass, even now, practically chomping at the bit to get Geralt’s hands on him, he’s mindful of the marks littering his chest.

“Fuck me then”

Geralt’s chuckle made the whole fight over the oil worth it, especially when he felt his head being pulled down and a kiss being pressed against his temple just as he felt the first slick finger begin to tease at the edge of his rim “Done”

With that Geralt slowly pushed his finger into him and he couldn’t help but let out a low grunt at the feeling, his legs shaking as he tried to keep himself lifted above Geralt’s chest, the witchers other hand having moved to be a firm anchor on his hip, not only to keep him steady but also stopping any attempt he made to move back onto it.

It seemed that the witcher was in a teasing mood as he did nothing else then, a smirk on his face as he looked back up, only able to give a small whine as he renewed his attempt to get Geralt to do something. It was only when he opened his mouth to protest and call the witcher several colorful names that the finger is pulling out and a second joined it, a small cry leaving him as he felt Geralt leisurely open him up, and it was only when he finally managed to string two thoughts together did he look down at the witcher with a pout and aimed a breathy “Asshole” at him.

“Be careful what you say bard” With those words Geralt renewed his attempt at fucking him with his fingers, crooking them just so that when they hit him a certain way he couldn’t help but let out a whine or a moan. He tried to keep some modicum of control, but he soon found himself eagerly trying to thrust back against the fingers, quiet pleas for more leaving his lips as Geralt’s free hand began to reverently span across his body.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to beg, yet at least, and it’s soon a third finger was pushing into him, and he couldn’t help the low groan that left him as he curled over Geralt, barely getting his hands onto the bed to stop him collapsing onto the witcher’s chest as he tried to move his hips in time to Geralt’s hand.

His breathing had become ragged now and that feeling of pleasure began to curl at his spine, but a hand moving to card through his hair caught his attention and he opened his eyes only to meet Geralt’s own. The gold he’d loved since he’d first seen them was nothing more than a thin ring around a sea of black, but even still he could see the appreciation, the disbelief and the love that the witcher aimed at him, and the sight alone would have made him come if Geralt’s fingers hadn’t suddenly left him entirely. 

He was unable to keep back his whine in protest, only placated when Geralt simply pulled his head down for a brief kiss whilst firm hands moved his hips to settle back onto the witcher's lap. Not one for waiting he quickly ground his hips back against the hot heat of the other man’s dick pressed against him and he chuckled as he felt said dick twitch at the fact.

“Fucking tease” 

He chuckled at the witcher’s words as he pressed their lips together, once again grinding his hips back in a way that had the head of Geralt’s dick catch on his rim, barely entering him, but the promise of more was still enough to get a broken groan from the witcher below him “You’re one to talk, thought we’d never get this far the way you were using those fingers”

“Don’t tempt me” He simply raised an eyebrow as he moved his hips again, cutting off Geralt’s moan with another kiss, and with every glide of their tongues or the longer his hips ground down against the witchers cock, had them get more desperate until eventually, they pulled apart, panting for breath as he all but pleaded at the other man.

“Please Geralt, ‘m ready, I need- I need you, to feel you, I-“ He broke off then, his voice breaking over the words he hadn’t dared say, that he needed to feel the witcher here and alive beneath him, feverish for his touch as if in the blink of an eye it would all be gone, and the soft look that took over Geralt’s face told him the witcher knew exactly what he meant.

A firm hand on the back of his head held their faces close, foreheads resting against each other as they breathed the same air, felt the warmth of each other and heard the way his heartbeat was racing under the witcher’s touch, their lips grazing together as Geralt murmured “I’m here”

They stayed like that for a moment longer before they kissed again and suddenly their urgency was renewed, and it was with a final flick of his tongue in Geralt’s mouth, a final taste, before he sat up again, barely noting the nod Geralt was giving him before he lifted himself on his knees, reaching behind himself to wrap a firm hand around Geralt’s dick before he was slowly sinking down.

He tried to keep his eyes open and fixed on the witcher, but the way his dick slowly pushed into him, filling and stretching him open more than Geralt’s fingers had, had his eyes flutter shut as he leaned his head back to let out small shuddering gasps until finally he was nestled back into the witcher’s lap. As he grew accustomed to the absolute sheer size of Geralt’s dick in him, a fact that left him gasping for air, had him move his hips to get a feel for the length filling him until Geralt stopped his efforts with a hiss and strong hands fixed on his hips.

Able to finally catch his breath he looked back down at the witcher, a lopsided smile on his lips as he watched the witcher try and hold himself back, giving a small experimental thrust of his hips that had Geralt bite at his bottom lip.

“Fuck Jaskier, so fucking tight” He let out a breathe as Geralt’s hands gripped even harder onto his hips, if there were any doubts about Geralt leaving bruises on him they were long gone, and he felt his dick twitch at the fact. 

Giving in to the temptation, and also because he was desperate to move, the only thing stopping him was Geralt’s grip on him. With one hand braced beside the witchers head, ignoring the tug at his chest when he saw Geralt give a brief kiss to his wrist, he brought his other hand to pull a little at the witchers bottom lip, noting how red and swollen and absolutely kissable he looked, already looking half wrecked as he bent down the rest of the way to press their lips together.

He let out a small moan of approval as Geralt let out his own guttural growl at the contact, ghosting his fingers across the witchers cheekbone before pulling ever so slightly away, their lips barely touching still so that he could speak “Let me look after you”

With that, he felt the witcher all but sigh and what tension remained in his body all but melted under him, he offered another brief smile that was quickly kissed away by Geralt’s lips, and it was when the other man’s tongue slid against his own that he raised his hips a little and sank back down, earning a hitch of breath in both of them.

As much as he wanted to stay pressed as close to Geralt as he could, the angle was far from ideal as he tried to fuck himself and he mourned the loss of Geralt’s hand trailing through his hair and the feel of lips on his own, or across his jaw or sucking marks into his neck as he sat back up on the witchers lap whilst he lay back in the bed. They had plenty of time for such intimacy eventually, a time when Geralt hadn’t almost died and he had almost gone with him, so for now, this was more than enough.

He settled back into the witcher’s lap, his hands braced against Geralt’s chest on some of the unmaimed areas, even still not daring to put his full weight on the man below him before he started to move his hips with vigor. Every thrust inside him had him make some sort of noise, whether that was a moan, a cry or just a whispered praise of the man below him as he shut his eyes for a moment just to feel the sweat on his brow and firm hands either on his hips or ass to guide his movements.

On one particular downward thrust he felt Geralt’s hips lift to meet him halfway, the harsh slap of skin hitting skin filled the room, and it was at just the right angle that he hit that small bundle of nerves inside him that had him let out a small cry in surprise.

He bit his lip, briefly his thoughts turned to the stranger’s home they were currently in and he felt somewhat guilty, but then Geralt was fucking into him again and again, the witchers hips now easily rising up to meet his and any thought but the man under him fled his mind.

It was after a handful of more thrusts that he finally managed to string some words in a pant “Stop for a minute” 

Just like that, all movement stopped, Geralt’s hands moved from their place on his ass to trace up his ribs for a moment and then to grasp his hands, a look of worry on the witcher’s face that he decidedly didn’t like “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Fuck I-“

“Geralt, I’m fine, your effort was more than welcome, which is why I stopped” That seemed to confuse the witcher, a small furrow forming between his brows as he waited for him to explain what he meant “I stopped because you shouldn’t be putting in any effort at all, you’re injured and I won’t have you hurt yourself-“

Before he could finish his rant that Geralt should definitely not be aggravating the wounds on his chest, he was tugged forward with a short yelp, barely able to recognize Geralt’s chuckle before the witcher was laughing against his mouth, hands tracing his cheekbone and where his neck and shoulder met almost reverently when they pulled apart.

“I’ve been through worse than this little lark” He can’t help but shudder or the way that the blush on his face got even darker at the nickname, something Geralt seemed to notice as he felt the witcher begin to roll his hips up into him, shutting his eyes with a groan as Geralt gradually began to pick up his pace again “This time tomorrow I could have you bent over any surface you want to fuck you nice and deep, hell I could do it right now if I wanted”

He let out a long groan then as he let his head fall onto Geralt’s shoulder, his breath being knocked out of him with every thrust as he tried to fuck himself back against him “And I, gods fuck, I said a couple days rest”

His argument didn’t sound very convincing, especially when he finished on a high whine as Geralt moved his hips just slightly so that each roll of his hips had the witcher hitting his prostate, but he was too far gone to notice the dark chuckle from the other man as he stopped moving “I could stop if that’s what you want”

With another groan he lightly smacked the witcher’s shoulder, earning another chuckle from the other man which had him try and fuck himself back against Geralt’s dick inside him, but the firm grip returned to his hips and stopped his attempt “Geralt, I swear to every god that if you don’t fuck me right now I will write a song pertaining to you having a small dick and how you can’t ever get it up”

He heard Geralt snort then, not exactly the reaction he had been hoping for “and here I thought you liked my dick” As he said it the witcher fucked into him again and oh how he’s tempted to go through with his threat.

“Geralt, for gods sakes just mo-“ He’s cut off then as the witcher obliged his wish and fucked up into him, his words ending on a choked off moan as slowly, because of course Geralt would still be teasing him, the witcher started to resume fucking into him.

It’s when he was letting out short ragged breaths into the skin of the witcher’s neck, his legs shaking as they held him up over Geralt’s body, and yet aching to push back and ride Geralt’s dick for all that he was worth, but the feeling of lips against his ear had him shudder at the feeling “ As you wish, who am I to deny my soulmate anything”

He groaned, more so at the teeth that bit at his ear lobe before moving to suck bruises onto his throat, not to mention that Geralt had also picked up the pace of his hips that practically had him mewling in pleasure. It’s after a minute or so that the words finally register to him and he quickly sat up, pinning Geralt’s hips under his own whilst his hands push at his shoulders, ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat at the smirk on the witcher’s face.

“What did you say?” His voice was hoarse and nothing more than a whisper and he’s sure if it wasn’t for Geralt’s witcher senses he wouldn’t have heard it at all, but the hands that began to trace small patterns on his hips, already discoloring into faint blues and purples, he can’t help but hold his breath.

“I said I thought you liked my dick” He groaned and rolled his eyes as he slapped his hand against Geralt’s shoulder in admonishment, no real heat, especially at the small laugh he managed to wring out of the man, but a fond look came across Geralt’s face then as gold eyes met blue “I said who am I to deny my soulmate anything”

The world around them seemed to freeze for a moment and he lowered his head so that they were only a few inches apart, not daring to cross the bridge between them until he was sure “Do you mean that?”

“When have I ever lied” Geralt’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke, and sure he could probably list a handful of times the witcher had bent the truth to keep him safe from a hunt, but he knew without a doubt that Geralt meant every word now.

He gave a small smile then, one that Geralt quickly traced with his thumb as both of their eyes fixed on each other, only averting to steal glances at the other's lips until they couldn’t hold back anymore and crashed against each other.

It was almost like it was their first time kissing, both eager and desperate and trying to chase the taste of the other with tongues and bitten lips until he had to pull away for breath, but his eyes never left what was left of the molten gold in Geralt’s before the witcher spoke “Hold on”

He barely registered the words and simply tightened his grip on the witcher's shoulders, knowing that if not his grip, his nails that dug into Geralt’s skin would leave its own mark, even if only for a little bit. That thought was then torn out of his head as he felt Geralt fuck into him, giving a couple of small but deep thrusts of his hips that he thought he might choke on before the witcher set a brutal pace with his hips.

Any effort to meet Geralt’s hips were wasted, his brain had long since stopped functioning and so it was Geralt’s hands on his hips that drove him back, that forced Geralt even deeper into him as the witcher’s hips snapped up to meet his, only sparing a thought to how he bent down to press wet, open kisses against the witcher’s jaw and neck, small pleas for more leaving him between each one.

“Gods Jaskier, so perfect how you take my cock like you were made for it” He gave a small smile, far too pleased at how he saw Geralt slowly fall apart below him, at the thin sheen of sweat that coated him like a second skin and the growl that had all but settled deep in his chest, barely noting the way the headboard smacked loudly against the wall with each snap of Geralt’s hips as his thrusts got even more frantic. 

“Technically I was” Now it was his turn to groan as Geralt changed his hips just slightly so that he was hitting his prostate at a different angle and only after a handful more thrusts did he snake a hand down to his own neglected dick that had made a nice pool of precome from where it had been rubbing between both of their stomachs. He felt it jump at his touch as he finally wrapped his hand around it with a shuddering moan, desperate eyes looking back towards Geralt “ ‘m not gonna last long”

All he got was a grunt in answer and suddenly his hand was being batted away from his dick only to be replaced with Geralt’s own, all he can do was hold on to the last vestiges of his control, even as he felt it quickly crumble around him with every thrust from the witcher, achingly deep and filling him up so well he could just as easily write a song about it.

He could tell by the almost erratic way Geralt was moving now that his witcher wasn’t too far behind as he let himself be pulled down for a kiss that was mostly just them panting into each other’s mouths, but it was the way Geralt all but growled out the words “sing for me little lark” that had him finally come undone.

With a shout of what he presumed to be Geralt’s name he all but collapsed onto the witcher, his arms shaking as he tried to hold himself above the witcher’s chest as he felt Geralt thrust a couple of more times before the witcher was growling out his name, the sound of it enough to send a shiver down his spine and caused his dick to give another weak rope of come as it twitched at the sound.

He groaned again as he felt Geralt come inside of him, at the way he felt it drip out of his hole to slide down his thighs when Geralt pulled out, only to be silenced by Geralt’s mouth on his as he was slowly lowered onto the bed at the witcher’s side. With a pleased hum, the kiss nothing more than a gentle brush of lips, a small laugh spilled from his mouth that was taken by Geralt’s own until the witcher finally pulled away, tugging at his bottom lip with his teeth as he left.

He lay there for a moment, he’d tell Geralt just to get his bearings after having thoroughly had his brains fucked, but really he just wanted to savor the moment, of Geralt, relaxed against the bed with a small smile teasing his lips as amber eyes eagerly raked in the sight of him, contrasted with the soft feeling of the witcher’s knuckles tracing across every inch of his skin that he could reach.

He offered a small smile up at Geralt, a part of him still shocked that the witcher had even made the omission as he spoke “So soulmates, who would’ve guessed” 

He smiled at the fond way Geralt rolled his eyes “Well the white wolf was a dead giveaway”

“So, now that my ass is involved you’re a believer? Unbelievable” He tried to look affronted but can’t help but feel that he showed nothing but adoration at the witcher, especially when he felt a firm arm wrap around his waist and pull him closer to the other man.

He curled around as much of Geralt’s body as he dared, argument already on the tip of his tongue should Geralt say something about it, about how the witcher didn’t listen to his advice and had likely made his injuries worse after their activities, but the comment never came. 

Instead, he felt gentle hands stroke down his back, careful to skirt around the claw marks embedded deep in his skin as he ignored the dull ache they caused after his exertion, but the serious look on Geralt’s face unsettled him a little and he half expected to be rejected. It had taken months for them to get here, for Geralt to acknowledge them as soulmates, and a part of him felt like maybe the witcher regretted it, something said in the heat of the moment or whilst still riding the high after an orgasm and this was where he would gently let him down before distancing himself again.

“I can hear you thinking” He hummed at the words, only just noticing how close Geralt had got, at the thumb that stroked his cheek as if it was a precious stone and the words whispered so quiet that it was clear they were only meant for his ears “I don’t regret it, Jaskier, calling you my soulmate” He lifted his hand then to grip at Geralt’s wrist, desperate for something to cling onto like a lifeline as the words threatened to drown him “I guess a part of me always knew, but I was too stubborn to admit it and I’m sorry for that”

His smile grew soft then and he moved his hand to stroke at the witchers cheek and leaned in close so that their foreheads touched “Well we’re here now, and that’s all that matters to me”

All he got was a grunt in response, and honestly what else did he expect. For a moment he thought that would be it, that they would stay curled up around one another until they fell back to sleep but the gentle press of Geralt’s lips had him sigh into the touch, indulging for a moment before pulling away with an even deeper sigh as he climbed off of the bed, trying to ignore Geralt’s stare boring into the back of his head.

He ignored it in favor of going to the dresser and picking up the discarded cloth he’d used to wash Geralt the last couple of days, rinsing it in what water was left and with a grimace moved to clean himself, only jumping a little at the cold touch before he’s washing it out again and picking up the shirt Geralt had thrown off the bed earlier. He was proud enough to say that he took comfort in it, or more specifically the scent of the witcher in it, and the way it hung off of his thin frame before he made his way towards the witcher, but the sight he was met with had him stop.

Geralt was sat up in bed, and he’d be half way there to shove him back and telling him to rest otherwise they’d never leave, but instead he was met with the sight of his wolf, halfway climbing into the witchers lap whilst Geralt was stroking it, and in a quiet moment between the two, pressed their heads together. The sight made his chest tight and his heart flutter in his chest as he slowly approached again, only when he was a step away the wolf all but collapsed to rest in what must be an uncomfortable position on the witchers laps, but still seemed reluctant to move as it pinned Geralt’s legs beneath its body.

He stroked a hand through the wolfs fur quickly, smiling at the small growl he felt rumbling in its chest before he began to work on cleaning Geralt’s chest from the sweat and the come still coating him, trying his best to ignore the soft look the witcher aimed at him as he worked.

When he was done he could only toss the cloth aside before he felt a warm hand encircle his wrist and as he saw Geralt with an eyebrow raised as he made an obvious move to look his body up and down, his throat going dry as he saw Geralt lick his lips, but he quickly put that thought to the side, a few days, a few days rest was what they needed and then they could explore each other as much as they pleased.

For now, though he just offered a smirk to the witcher and pulled from his grip to walk around to the other side of the bed, giving a sway to his hips as he moved as he knew the witcher would be watching “Don’t act like you don’t love it”

Geralt just offered a somewhat guilty look at having been discovered staring so easily but as soon as he was in the bed he was being pulled against the witcher, warmth shooting through him where the witcher skated his fingers against his skin before pressing a kiss against his temple “ I do love it, just didn’t know you’d be ready for round two so soon”

He just offered a roll of his eyes and a quick kiss to the witchers lips in an effort to placate him before he moved to settle back onto the bed, Geralt laying down as well, thank the gods, and he soon moved to curl up against the witchers shoulder as he had the previous night, and just as before he had the lark join him as well.

Whilst he was too tired to crane his neck and watch the scene, he couldn’t keep back the smile as he heard the witcher all but coo at the small bird, praising it for helping them both in the fight and for keeping watch over him, and if the loud, happy chirps were anything to go by the lark was enjoying the praise, but was even happier at the fact the witcher was still there breathing, a sentiment they both shared.

After Geralt had given enough attention as he had energy for to the lark, the bird moved to join him or more specifically came to rest in the curve of Geralt’s neck, which also meant the bird was pressed to his forehead, a soft warm weight against him that solidified the fact that not only was Geralt here and alive, but by the witcher’s own words they were soulmates.

“You’re just as bad as the lark, you know, you never shut up and I can practically feel you preening down there”

“Well you would too if your soulmate finally admitted that destiny had brought you together” He turned to look up at the witcher, a smile playing at the edges of his lips as he continued “Or I’d suppose you’d howl wouldn’t you”

He couldn’t help the small laugh as Geralt groaned at what was likely the destiny part and the howling like a wolf part, but it still didn’t deter the witcher when he tried to lean up for another kiss, pouting when he couldn’t quite reach only to let out a small hum when Geralt separated the small difference between them to press their lips together.

So filled with joy at finally getting to have this side of the witcher, a side no one else will see, and the sheer love he held for him he couldn’t stop the murmured ‘I love you’ that slipped from his lips when they parted, only just realizing what he’d said after a beat of silence.

Sure it was obvious he loved the witcher, and it was obvious said witcher held some sort of love for him, but admitting they were soulmates was one thing that was obvious from the moment they met each other, but given how emotionally constipated Geralt was he knew admitting love would be a bit more of a challenge and he couldn’t help but feel like he had fucked it all up, at least until he felt a soft hand tugging at his hair to bring him out of his thoughts.

“Don’t get your pants in a twist, Jaskier, I love you too” It was almost even more shocking at the witchers easy admission as his own had been, but a couple of more tugs at his hair and a soft smile were enough to dispel any worries he had away and he quickly nestled back against Geralt’s shoulder, pressing a small kiss there as he felt an arm wrap around his back.

It had taken them the better part of a year to get here and more than a few bumps along the way, but it had all been worth it, well except for the times they had both almost died, but they’d deal with those when the time came. 

For now, he was more than content to be lulled to sleep by the warmth and safety of the wolf pressed against his legs and the lark who had moved itself up to nest in his hair whilst the soft steady breath of his witcher under him, held him close. They’re doing fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i'm tempted to write a bonus chapter of a winter at kaer morhen, let me know if you want to see it but otherwise thanks for reading.
> 
> Also if you like my writing, feel free to check out my tumblr and send me some prompts there? cinnamohm-roll


	11. Kaer Morhen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finallly the Kaer Morhen chapter I promised.  
> Sorry it took so long but I had exams which ive finally finished but laptop is on its last legs so apologies for any mistakes but its struggling right now XD

It had been a month since their admissions to each other, since he’d almost died and Jaskier had risked his own life to save him. It both felt so far away and as if it had happened yesterday, but he supposed that was because winter was looming, and they were putting off the inevitable discussion over what they were to do.

It was customary for him to venture to Kaer Morhen and spend the cold months with his brothers until the path became a little friendlier to them and their horses, and whilst Jaskier knew this, he also knew they didn’t typically welcome strangers, well non-witchers anyway.

He wanted Jaskier to come with him, wanted him to see where he grew up and to meet his brothers and mentor, to show a part of himself nobody else had seen, but that was the trouble, them. The last thing he wanted was to earn his brother’s ire when he turned up to the keep with his soulmate in tow, as if rubbing it in their faces that he had defied seemingly nature itself to get the impossible, something he knew Eskel had at least wished for all those years ago when they were boys first learning to swing a sword.

In that same breath though he didn’t know if he could bear the thought of being away from Jaskier for the half a year he would be gone, worrying if he was well, if he was safe and happy, and although the bard was willing to go back to Oxenfurt and while away his time there, he could still see the sadness that he hid in his eyes at being apart. Every stolen glance at Jaskier, at the way his shoulders hunched just a little bit more, his face a little more closed off and how he got ever quieter as winter drew nearer he was all the more tempted to say fuck it and stay by the bard’s side.

That was the other problem though, the winter months at Kaer Morhen were there to signify to each other that they were still here and alive and that they wouldn’t have to mourn for another fallen brother that year, but it didn’t make the choice any easier.

Fate had other ideas though and the decision was taken from them one morning as they slowly rose in some poor excuse for a bed in a town bordering Aedirn and Kaedwen. This would be the last day they were to travel together, spending one final night likely in the woods before Jaskier went west towards Redania and he north for Kaer Morhen.  
To say they were reluctant to leave the room would be an understatement, as the rise of the sun slowly lit up the room instead they clung to one another and shared gentle, unrushed kisses with the odd murmur of praise between each touch as they made love. 

It’s funny how an opinion could change over the year, previously he had scoffed at the notion of love, that sex between two people was something needed to get rid of an itch and occupy your time for a while until the next distraction came, but how could anything that involved Jaskier be anything else but love.

He blamed the fact that he had become too ensnared in Jaskiers gaze, his soothing touch and gentle words as to why he didn’t hear the woman race up their stairs, he could only pull out the dagger he kept under his pillow when he recognized the barmaid come all but crashing through their door.

Faintly he heard Jaskier’s wolf snarling in the corner of the room, it too assessing the threat of the woman whilst his body tried to covers Jaskier in the hope of protecting him, but the panicked gaze in the women’s eye and the way the raven on her shoulder was restless with its wings, something he knew from his own bird to be agitation and worry, only had him relax a little knowing he wouldn’t have to fight. Yet at least.

“I’m sorry to bother you master witcher, but we had people asking after you a moment ago and thought we should warn-“

“Who? Who was looking for me?” For all he knew it could have been the locals with a contract but given the way she shifted from foot to foot, and the rapid way her heart beat in her chest he knew it wasn’t something as easy.

“I don’t-“

“What did they look like”

“Urm, black armour, from Nilfgaard it looked like but why would they be so far north?”

“Fuck” He looked back then, saw the worry on Jaskier’s face as he quickly made his decision and got out of the bed, paying no mind to the fact he was naked as he looked towards the barmaid, ignoring the way her raven flapped its wings at him as if trying to threaten him to keep his distance “What did you tell them? I need to know everything you said to them”

“They asked if a witcher had been through here, one with white hair and we said yes he had but that was a week ago, see we know you come here every year witcher and we appreciate how you help the village, so we lied to them. They asked what way you were headed so we said towards Temeria, that you had a friend there, and then they left”

He let out a sigh and felt some of the tension leave his body at the news, silently grateful to the two women behind the bar who had kept him a secret despite the threat to their lives if the Nilfgaardians ever found out. It was then that he felt his lark perch on his shoulder and felt himself relax further, they were safe for now, and he couldn’t help but reach up to coax it into his hand and absently stroke through its feathers as it preened under the attention, anything to keep his hands busy from the underlying tension that still held thick in his body.

“Thank you, for helping us” He offered her what he hoped was a smile before he turned back to the bed only to see Jaskier leaning against the head board, his wolf on the bed in the spot he had just vacated as he watched the scene unfold “Get dressed bard, you’re coming with me now”

It was almost comical the way Jaskier all but jumped out of the bed and bustled around the room trying to put on some clothes whilst shoving others into his pack, and he couldn’t help but smile a bit at the sight, at least until the barmaid piped up again.

“Sorry master witcher-“

“Geralt” He rolled his eyes as Jaskier chimed in but still had to fight the growing urge to smile at the other man 

“Geralt, apologies, but I insist you stay another night just to make sure they’re gone, we’ll cover it, your bard brought in a lot of money last night and it’s the least we can do”

It was a good offer, a tempting one at that, not often were they offered free lodgings so willingly but if Nilfgaard had managed to track them down this far then it wouldn’t be long before they finally caught up and he simply couldn’t risk Jaskier falling under their hands, their journey to Kaer Morhen was vital now.

“I appreciate the offer but we really-”

“Please sir, the blacksmith swore he saw one of the soldiers this morning walking around town, but in normal clothes and I wouldn’t put it past them, the buggers” He sighed then, it was more likely that the blacksmith thought he saw one of the soldiers, paranoia would make people see the emperor himself walk the streets if given reason to, but he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to remain cautious. “Just stay for now, we can slip you out back tonight when it’s dark and the bar is busy, and you can be on your way”

He nodded his agreement, it probably would be the best chance they would have to get out, but if there were soldiers in disguise around the town that meant they had to spend the day cooped up in the room. It was then that the barmaid bid them farewell, and he stood there even after the door shut behind her, it was only when he felt warm arms wrap around his middle, and a head nestle settle onto his shoulder, pressing a kiss onto his neck, that he finally started to relax.

“You alright?”

“Hmm” He let his lark leave his hands then, the animal seemingly already sensing the impending conversation, and instead gripped Jaskier’s arms around him, simply enjoying the warmth they held and the fact that this touch was for him, only him, but that was what the problem was here.

“Geralt”

He was broken from his reverie by what he called Jaskier’s ‘warning voice’ signifying that he had better say whatever was bothering him or the bard was going to make it his personal mission to do any and every thing to coax answers from him, something he had learned the hard way several times. That made it easy to give in now, even more so with his back to Jaskier but also being held in his arms, one of the few places he felt safe enough to let his walls down “They’re looking for me, in any other town they probably would’ve handed me over, it put you in danger”

“Don’t start with that Geralt, I’m here with you because I want to be and I’m safest with you”

“Are you? We’re soulmates, you had no say in the matter and here I am dragging you across the continent like a piece of meat for every monster, human or otherwise, to devour” He felt Jaskier’s breath as he huffed his annoyance into his shoulder, the arms around him held him just that bit tighter before suddenly Jaskier was in front of him, now with one hand holding his cheek whilst the other gripped his hand.

“Right, well I’m going to ignore what you just said for your sake and remind you that I’m not yours. I’m your soulmate yes, and I will follow you wherever you go but that’s because I want to” He furrowed his brow then, ready to argue exactly why Jaskier shouldn’t be following him before a finger on his lips stopped his protests “I’m my own person Geralt and if I decide I’ve had enough of cleaning monster guts from your hair than I can pack up my bags and head wherever I choose and do whatever I want because I can. I’m not bound to you and this life, I’m here because I want to and I wouldn’t be anywhere else, it was just fate the brought us together”

“And your penchant to believe in fairytales” He scoffed at that last part, he wanted to argue his point further, that the safest place for Jaskier was away from him, especially with Nilfgaard on his heels, but he knew Jaskier wouldn’t concede and they had more important matters now, they could argue again when spring came around but for now Geralt knew he wouldn’t get any piece of mind unless he had Jaskier by his side at winter.

“It worked though didn’t it” He smiled even as Jaskier leaned up to press their lips together, whilst now it was his turn to wrap his arms around the bards waist, pulling them even closer together, not even an inch of space between them as he felt hands tangle in his hair and tug, unable to keep back his groan as they parted, eyes dark and mouths parted and wet, craving more “Now I believe we were in the middle of something quite wonderful before we were interrupted”

He smirked a little as Jaskier sought to kiss him again but instead he pulled the bards head down to press a brief kiss to Jaskier’s forehead, but it clearly wasn’t enough given by the whine and the pout on the bard’s face and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the tantrum.

“Not now, I trust the barmaids but half the town saw us yesterday and people are easily swayed with the promise of coin, we need to pack up and be ready to leave if anyone comes looking” This time when Jaskier leaned forward he allowed the gentle brush of their lips together, so soft it was barely there, like an exhale of breathe before, with a final kiss to his forehead, Jaskier moved away from him to finish packing up his last few things.

The rest of the day did not go by as peacefully. They were under lockdown essentially and it wasn’t long before Jaskier began whining about there being nothing to do. He had seen the bard pull out his notepad and lute to start composing or whatever the fuck he had planned to do, but with his warning that if they had to run out quickly that they wouldn’t have time to wait for Jaskier to put his belongings away and would instead be left behind.

That earned another frown and a whole new list of complaints that meant he too was beginning to feel a growing tension inside of him, one that made him a little uneasy no matter how long he meditated. He too wasn’t afforded the luxury of distraction, not even to sharpen his swords, and his own annoyance at the situation only became more pronounced with both Jaskier’s and their animal’s unease.

The wolf had taken to pacing across the room, ears twitching rapidly to listen for any sound with the occasion snarl coming from it before it resumed its tireless stalking. His lark had followed Jaskier’s lead to become singularly annoying, in that whilst the bard couldn’t play his lute, he could still sing, quietly at his insistence at least, but it meant little to his heightened senses.

Thankfully, they had no run in with Nilfgaardian soldiers. Didn’t have to hastily grab their things and fight their way out. Instead the same barmaid as before greeted them, a sack in her hand that he could tell contained some dried meats and fruit, sparing a grateful nod to her as he stored it in his bag before they were lead out through the kitchens and then a couple of small alleys before she left them at the side of the road, Roach not too far ahead grazing.

With a final thanks they left but although grateful for the easy escape he still felt on edge, tense as he anticipated a fight, but there was little he could do with his pent up energy now. Jaskier must have been able to tell by the gentle hand he placed onto his shoulder, and he did relax a little under the touch, feeling more at home on the road and in the woods and sure he could shake off any tail that may try and follow them.

He offered a small pat in greeting to his horse, earning a small nudge from her, clearly grateful to be reunited and just as eager to leave. Once he’d strapped their bags on he turned to Jaskier and he softened a little at the sight of his bard wrapped up tight in his cloak, his lark on Jaskiers shoulder whilst the man curled a hand into his wolfs fur. Despite them being a similar height he couldn’t help but note how small Jaskier looked here and he couldn’t help but pull him into a tight hug, one that was clearly needed by the way Jaskier held him before they parted.

So that’s how they found themselves leaving a small no name town, which he swore he would learn the name of so that he could return to give them his proper thanks after the winter, with Jaskier on Roach. He had coaxed the horse into a trot and he in turn jogged by her side in an attempt to burn off some of the energy that being locked up all day had caused with Jaskiers wolf a little ways in front to scout ahead, eager to put as many miles between them and Nilfgaard before the sun rose.

********

It had taken them the better part of a week but finally they were coming up on the gates of Kaer Morhen. The weather had been kind to them with the worst of it being a slight drizzle a few days ago with every day in between bearing a pale overcast sky and a bitter chill that foretold snow.

Throughout their journey Jaskier had taken to asking about his home, about the stories within its walls and the people that lived there, and instead he had remained silent, not wanting to get the bards hopes up for a barely held together keep and a bunch of emotionally stunted witchers. He, however, did relent a little when Jaskier threatened to go to said witchers for stories, namely of a younger Geralt, but even so he readied himself for the ribbing sure to come from his brothers.

Surprisingly though, as they came up to the front gate Jaskier was silent beside him, staring up with awe as if a kid had gotten free reign over a sweet store and although he wanted to comment on the newfound silence he dare not break the moment.

He didn’t see Vesemir on the walls as he expected, instead the gate quickly lifted before them and as they entered the courtyard were greeted by the sight of Lambert leaning against the wall as he watched their little group enter, and he could already see the sneer on his brothers face and he felt his hackles rise involuntarily.

“You brought a whore back with you this year? Never took you for the type but to each their own”

“Watch yourself”

“Is he for everyone or just you?”

“I said watch it”

“You must be Lambert then, Geralt’s told me a lot about you”

“Has he now” Just then he watched as Lambert stalked closer to Jaskier, almost as if it was a predator meeting its prey, but any intentions Lambert had towards his bard were quickly stopped by the wolf that stepped between them, mouth drooling as it snarled around sharp teeth whilst his lark perched atop the wolf head looking just as vicious and the sight of Lambert backing off a pace brought a small smile to his lips.

“The fuck are you doing bringing a wolf here, although, I do need a new rug for my room” Just as quickly as he felt his anger flare he could smell the anger radiating off of Jaskier and watched as he squared his shoulders, ready to fight the other witcher should he have to.

The scene made him want to smack Jaskier upside the head for challenging his brother who could no doubt dispatch both him and his wolf without breaking a sweat, whilst simultaneously he felt a burst of pride at the way his bard, his soulmate, stood up for himself.

However, Lambert didn’t agree with him and he saw the witcher step closer to the trio and he quickly went to intercept, but not before Jaskier’s wolf grabbed onto Lamberts arm before he could touch Jaskier. He knew the wolf was just keeping Lambert back, not intending to hurt him even if he did deserve it, but as Lambert fought he knew the wolf’s grip would tighten, hell he’d been on the receiving end of a few of those grips, so any injury he got was his own fault.

Unsurprisingly, lightening quick Lambert moved to punch at the wolf, barely hearing the shout from Jaskier who launched towards them, matched by the shrill chirp from his lark who flashed forward and given the shout from the witcher guessed the bird had scratched his face. 

That was a good move and distracted Lambert enough to allow him to finally tackle the witcher to the ground, quickly pinning him down with his arm painfully pulled behind his back, Jaskier’s wolf snarling above Lambert’s head all the while until finally, with a groan, Lambert relented.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop just get your fat ass off me” He gave a final pull of Lambert’s arm, earning another pained grunt before he stood up and offered his hand down to help him up all the while he tried to keep back his smirk at Jaskier’s murmured ‘it is a good ass though”

He pulled his brother into an abrupt hug, sure that Lambert was just glaring at Jaskier over his shoulder, but he knew the bard could give as good as he got, and when he pulled back he was met with another sneer from Lambert.

“Why the wolf then? Wanted to carry round your namesake white wolf”

“It’s a long story” Lambert looked at him then, he could tell he wanted to probe further but apparently knew better this one time and instead nodded his head towards Jaskier.

“And the whore?”

“Bard” Before he could intercept Jaskier interrupted for him, nothing like the put on anger he usually held for him but instead cool and collected and a lot more terrifying when you didn’t know what to expect from the man.

“Same thing isn’t it, both whore yourself out to people for gold don’t you?” He couldn’t help but huff out a laugh at Lambert’s comment, even if he was tempted to punch his brother for the comment, but when he looked to Jaskier he just saw the man with an eyebrow raised and smirk on his lips seemingly unaffected by the remark.

“What does that make you then?” This time he did chuckle and earned a slap on the head from his brother before he moved back to wrap an arm around Jaskier’s waist, earning a sceptical look from the man as he did so “And I heard you laugh Geralt, you’ll be sleeping on your own tonight”

Now it was his turn to glare at Lambert as he let out a snort at his outcome and he was half tempted to tousle with the other witcher then and there and put his head against the stone a couple of times, but instead he just let out a long suffering sigh as he addressed his brother “He’s here because I want him here and Nilfgaard are after us”

“The fuck have you been up to this year then?”

“It’s a long story”

“Well I’m sure Vesemir can’t wait to hear it, just wait till I get some ale first before you tell him”

“Fuck off Lambert, don’t you have some stables to muck out?”

“Nah saved that for you, figured you could offload all your horseshit to them before bringin’ it in for us to hear, but there’s a spare stall and I could bring out some pillows if your giggilo would prefer it” This time he pulled the other witcher into a headlock, carefully avoiding the arms and legs that tried to dislodge him until once again he had the satisfaction of Lambert admitting his defeat and muttering out a half assed apology before he pushed away with a huff, grumbling about seeing them at dinner before he went inside.

His smile softened a little when he turned to Jaskier, who only moments ago had been so confident, was now huddled into himself ,whether from the cold or something else he couldn’t tell, but stepped closer to pull the man closer to him just in case, pressing a kiss to his temple before pulling him into a hug, his hand stroking the bard’s hair and he felt Jaskier all but melt into the touch.

“I’m sorry about him, Lambert can be a…”

“Prick?”

He couldn’t help but snort even if he pulled Jaskier just that bit closer to him “Just give him time, he’s not easy to trust but he’ll come around eventually”

“Just you watch Geralt, I’ll woo him even faster than I did you”

“Should I be worried?” 

He pulled away slightly but only so he could get a better look at Jaskier’s face, smirking all the while whilst Jaskier just moved to wrap his arms around his neck, a similar smirk on his own face “Depends on how well you treat me tonight”

“So I’m out of the doghouse now?” He chuckled a little even as he angled his head slightly so that their lips could brush together, not quite the touch that he craved, and he could feel the smile on Jaskiers own lips as he spoke.

“I’ll let you off a warning this one time” With that Jaskier’s lips were on his and he couldn’t help but let out a small groan as he eagerly opened his mouth to deepen their kiss, hands scrabbling down his back before tugging into his hair and back again and it was reluctantly he pulled away. He should feel mortified, sure in the fact that at least one of his brothers heard his moan given they were just on the other side of the wall, but he found he didn’t care. He had Jaskier in his arms, safe, and that was all he wanted from now on, and now they had months to themselves, to fully and truly get to know one another and he found himself eager for the longer days and even longer nights wrapped in warm arms.

As much as he wanted they couldn’t remain in the courtyard, he could see Jaskier try to supress a shiver from the chill and as much as he wanted to couldn’t avoid the inevitable discussion with his mentor, he just hoped Lambert hadn’t had time to get his theatre side drink.

“I need to go and settle in Roach, you can go inside if you want, I won’t be long” He felt Jaskier nod his head against him, finally relinquishing the hold he had around his waist, and after pressing a final kiss to the top of Jaskiers head led Roach into the stable, sparing a moment to stroke a finger across his larks chest where it had now perched on his shoulder and offered it an appreciate hum “You did well against a witcher, and I know you didn’t mean to seriously hurt him but it’s better to go for the eye next time”

His lark just sang at him as it always did and he thought he could almost see it roll its eyes as if his advice had been the most obvious thing in the world and he offered another chuckle before stroking through its feathers a final time “Course you knew that”

With a slight nudge from Roach he was quickly putting her into one of the stalls, taking the bags off of her along with the saddle and tack before giving her a quick brush and filling up her water and food, all the while his lark sang for him. Normally he would have taken his time with settling his horse, whispering small stories to her as he took his time to brush off every bit of dust and tangle from her mane, but his eyes kept looking towards Jaskier, sat on the front steps leading to the main hall in a quiet conversation with his wolf and he wanted nothing more than to go to him.

With a final pat to Roach’s neck, who simply whinnied in response in dismissal, he re-joined the bard, their bags hanging off various parts of him as he offered Jaskier a hand to stand back up, giving it a squeeze before leading them inside, but not before Jaskier spoke.

“I was just thinking, if Lambert expects a whore then I guess I better put on one hell of a show tonight, how pissed would he be if we did it outside his room?” 

“You put on a show every night” He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the bards antics, even as he gave the hand in his another squeeze whilst trying to school his features from the no doubt fond look before he faced his brothers “And to answer your question, very, maybe don’t antagonise him your first night here, he’ll probably throttle you in your sleep”

“I didn’t hear a no though” He couldn’t repress his sigh now or the smile when he heard Jaskier chuckle beside him “Don’t worry love, I’ll be on my best behaviour”

He’s sure he felt his heart skip a beat at the nickname and he spared a thought to the fact that his brothers just behind the wall had probably heard it and will definitely make fun of him for it, but at the way Jaskier smiled at him again he couldn’t find it in himself to care as he offered a final squeeze to the man’s hand before leading him inside.

They were met by Vesemir, stood front and centre, backlit by the roaring fire in the hearth with his arms crossed against his chest and a stern look on his face, his eyes softening a little at the sight of him, but not by much as he allowed them to approach. He definitely shouldn’t have put this off for so many years.

In the back of his mind he was aware of Eskel and Lambert sat on the long table not three feet away and silently cursed that Lambert had managed to get the tankard of ale he wanted, the bastard, he could practically see the grin already plastered onto the younger witcher’s face as he awaited the inevitable conversation.

He had hoped for a more private setting, but he supposed it was time to come clean to them. All those years ago when he had foolishly invoked the law of surprise he had done everything he could not to own up to his mistake, which included ferreting himself away in the keep by mid-summer. Of course Vesemir had seen right through him and it was only a matter of days before he was admitting to what had happened and after a seemingly endless conversation felt only slightly better for it, but it was enough then, not anymore. 

Nilfgaards progression north, however subtle, was signifying a time of change and although he had tried to keep away from his surprise, Ciri who he had since learned was growing into a fine young girl, to give her a chance at a normal life with family, he couldn’t help but feel that choice eat away at him now. 

The threat of war was palatable, and he knew he had to act sooner rather than later. Whilst Vesemir knew his brothers didn’t. He wasn’t quite sure why he had kept it from them, he trusted them with his life, but what had happened with Eskel’s own child surprise gave him pause, but if he wanted their support he knew he had to come clean, as did Vesemir who simply quirked a brow at him now.

“Well it’s good to see you’re still alive at least”

“Vesemir” He nodded his head but under that stern gaze he couldn’t help but avert his eyes, for the first time in decades he felt like a ten year old kid being chastised by his fencing master.

“Now Lambert tells me you’ve got a story to tell, one involving Nilfgaard and whores so you best tell me now boy, I won’t have any secrets in my keep” He couldn’t help but sigh even as he aimed what he hoped was his hardest glare at the younger witcher, who simply smirked into his cup, but he found himself floundering on where to begin, at least until he felt Jaskier squeeze his hand, focussing him a little more even as Vesemir softened a little at the sight “Why don’t you start with telling us why Nilfgaard is after you”

“If I had to guess it’s probably because of my child surprise” He heard choking from both Eskel and Lambert, only able to get the briefest feeling of satisfaction as Lambert was left cleaning up from his half-spilled tankard whilst Vesemir just looked back at the with a frown, at which they quickly collected themselves and their mentors gaze returned to him.

“I take it there’s a reason Nilfgaard are interested in this particular child”

“She’s the princess of Cintra, and based on what happened the night I claimed her, may have some degree of power inherited from her parents” That statement resulted in even more sounds of struggle from his brothers, their eyes fixed on him that told they were definitely going to talk and rib him endlessly about this later whilst Vesemir just pinched the bridge of his nose.

“All of that and you didn’t think to claim the girl? To bring her here?”

“We only knew of Nilfgaards advancement a week ago and with winter setting in there was no way to reach Cintra and get back here before the snows would close the trail off” He could see Vesemir about to argue, that his child surprise’s safety was paramount, especially is she had powers which Nilfgaard seemingly sought after, but he quickly intercepted whatever the elder planned to say “They won’t attack over winter, the balance of power in the north is precarious but it’s there for now, besides Nilfgaard don’t do too well in the cold, will probably try to take advantage of starving farmhands and the boy knights come spring”

He watched Vesemir think it over in his head and whilst he didn’t lose that doubtful look, he still thankfully changed the topic showing that he had some faith in his claims at least, but his eyes now pointedly fixed on Jaskier beside him and he felt pride fill him at the way the bard didn’t back down under such a gaze.

“And what part does he play in it”

“He was with me when Nilfgaard came looking, I couldn’t just leave him, plus he’s…” He paused, somehow saying the words outright didn’t feel right, didn’t give justice to what he and Jaskier had, but it was the sound of Eskel laughing that pulled him from thinking more on it as all eyes focussed to stare at him.

“You son of a bitch, how the fuck did you manage to get a soulmate” There wasn’t anger or jealousy in his brothers tone, just amusement as he looked at them, and he felt somewhat uncomfortable under the now assessing gaze of Vesemir and Lambert who looked them over with new eyes, finally putting the image of the wolf and his lark together with the pair of them.

The frown that had marred Vesemir’s face then lifted and he offered a faint smile to the pair of them before he moved aside to let them pass “It appears you’ve had quite the year and we’ll talk about it more later. Go and get settled, I’ll have dinner here waiting for you, welcome to Kaer Morhen bard”

“Jaskier, my name’s Jaskier”

“Jaskier, now go wash up the both of you and then I can give Geralt a stern talking to about some of the decisions he’s made”

They don’t waste much time then, he quickly began to drag Jaskier through stone hallways before finally coming to his room, now stood in front of the door he was hit by a wave of concern? Worry? About what the bard might think, but a squeeze to his hand and the faint press of lips to his shoulder was enough to have him cast a small smile to Jaskier before letting him in.

The wolf immediately took its place up on the bed and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the sight whilst his lark kept pressed close against his neck, a fond look on his face at both the bird on his shoulder and at Jaskier slowly inspecting the room around him with a look of awe. He hadn’t exactly made a home out of his room at Kaer Morhen, it was more so a collection of things he’d done over the years to while away the time, from the first sword he had owned to a few carvings he had made by the fireside, nothing special, one of his previous horses, of a doe and its foal and just for the challenge, a kikimore, to several maps littered across a desk held down his cache of Gwent cards that he prized.

It wasn’t much and definitely nothing like the finery Jaskier preferred, but at the way he saw the bard’s eyes light up and the smile that toyed on his lips he knew Jaskier had just as easily fallen in love with this aspect of him and his home as well.

********

The next week or so passed by without affair. Vesemir had slapped him upside the head, again, for claiming the law of surprise and was also put on laundry and kitchen duty for said week, much to the amusement of Jaskier who had enjoyed his chastisement a little too much for his liking.

Jaskier was a different matter though. The bard had taken to try and help wherever he could in the keep, a feat that had pleased Vesemir and had warmed the older witcher to Jaskier even if he couldn’t do much of the heavy work. Instead he had been resorted to animal duty, cleaning out the stables and feeding the horses, all of whom had quickly taken a liking to the bard, even with the large wolf that followed him like a shadow, and he couldn’t help but smile at how quickly they had taken to him. 

Even Eskel’s goat seemed to enjoy his attentions and it wasn’t uncommon to see the small goat also follow Jaskier around the courtyard as he did his duties, humming a little ditty to himself. More than once he had seen Eskel reach for his medallion to see if maybe he had just missed the slight hum it gave in the presence of magic, but every time the witcher would just frown when he got no response before returning to his task.

He knew the feeling, now that he openly admitted his feelings for the bard he could admit that it was almost like magic how he flounced his way across the room, drawing the attention of everyone present and captivating them with pretty smiles and even the occasional wink, although those were always only thrown his way, even if the young maidens wanted to pretend otherwise.

His brothers weren’t immune to said charm. They had tried to remain brash and neutral, casting the bard aside whenever he tried to coax a story out of them. Still the bard had persisted until even they couldn’t help the upturn to their lips when Jaskier had once jumped at him with such force he had knocked them both over, or when they had joined them for dinner with half of his hair braided which resulted in an impromptu sparring session to prove that he could still kick both of their asses even as they held in their laughter.

Slowly Jaskier wore down their edges, whether that was offering them small sweet treats he’d made earlier that day or offering them their own soap when he noticed they had run out. Even in Eskel’s case Jaskier had made him an oil for his scars to help relieve the itch that came with the biting wind, something he hadn’t even noticed his brother suffered from until Jaskier had offered the vial to said witcher and got a muttered but appreciative ‘thanks’ in reply.

Despite all of this his brothers didn’t seem completely sold on the idea of Jaskier, or at least the whole soulmate thing and the loyalty said bard had for him. It was easy to see the way the bard had wormed his way into his heart and their animals outside of Kaer Morhen made it more than obvious they were meant to be, but here it wasn’t enough.

He was sort of pleased to see how defensive his brothers actually were over him, in their own way trying to protect him from what they felt was the inevitable heartbreak of losing Jaskier. To them Jaskier saw him as nothing but a fleeting fancy and next winter he’d return with his tail between his legs and drinking away a broken heart, but they hadn’t been there with them over the year, hadn’t seen his utter loyalty, devotion, and love.

He immediately sought to rectify it in the matter of the communal hot springs in the lower area of the keep. The past week had both he and Jaskier spend a lot of time there, just enjoying the time with one another, something they rarely had the luxury for on the road, but it was always stopped short by the arrival of his brothers.

It wasn’t that Jaskier was self-conscious per se, close quarters meant that they’d all seen glimpses of each other in just their brief time together so far, it’s just that Jaskier wasn’t too fond of the three scars that marred his shoulder as it was a constant reminder of just a couple of months ago when they both could have easily died and not something he wanted to dwell on, hell whenever he thought about his fight that night he felt the new scars on his own chest itch just a little under his skin.

With the arrival of Eskel and Lambert, who would quickly strip down to join them, Jaskier would be stepping out, carefully angling himself so the two other witchers couldn’t see the scars on his back, as if they didn’t have plenty to show of their own, before wrapping himself in a towel to sit behind him and if he was lucky have his hair washed.

If his brothers noticed it, or the spike in Jaskiers heartbeat, they never mentioned it. Now though, as they soaked in the baths, in a kiss that was nothing more than a simple press of their lips together with Jaskier nestled in his lap, he intended to show his brothers just what Jaskier meant to him, what they meant to each other.

He heard the stomps of his brothers footfalls long before they arrived, and when Jaskier heard them he felt the other man’s body stiffen a little before he tried to slide off of his lap, but he held firm to Jaskiers hips and began to press small kisses along his jaw and up to his ear.

“Stay, please?” He could see the war in Jaskier’s eyes, and he just pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth before putting on what he hoped was a pleading look “Trust me?”

He let out a breath when he felt Jaskier relax against him, the bard giving him a small nod before leaning forward to capture his lips more thoroughly but moving away a lot sooner than he wanted so that Jaskier could press their foreheads together “Always”

That was how Lambert and Eskel found them and he made sure to aim his middle finger at them as he heard the sounds of faked retching.

“You two better not be fucking in there, the last thing I need right now is to bathe in whatever the fuck came out of you” He smirked as Jaskier turned his head towards Lambert, already seeing the raised eyebrow that spoke of mischief.

“We’ve been doing it all week, why should we stop now” He almost choked on the laugh that came out of him as he saw Lambert pull away lightning fast from the water he had almost just dipped his foot into, almost as if he’d been about to step into a monsters jaw, made all the better when Eskel then shoved the younger witcher into the water “Plus I hear it’s good for the skin”

He definitely couldn’t help but laugh as Lambert sputtered out from the water, aiming a glare at the pair of them, or more specifically Jaskier who just rolled his eyes in reply “Oh don’t get your panties in a twist, this bath has remained come free and will continue to do so”

“For now” He laughed again as Jaskier weakly slapped at his chest, Lambert eyeing the pair of them up one final time before like a viper he struck and managed to pull a thoroughly entertained Eskel into the bath with them which quickly turned into a wrestling match between the two of them.

If it wasn’t for Jaskier in his lap he’s sure he would’ve been dragged under the water to join them, honestly he was surprised they didn’t pull him in regardless, maybe in a few more weeks’ time when they became a bit familiar with the bard, but for now he could only roll his eyes and enjoy the free entertainment until the two of them finally settled down on the other side of the bath.

It was quite for a time, his brother’s content to just relax in the warm water with only the minor scuffle here and there whilst he resumed to lavish his attention to the man on his lap. Jaskier was tense at first when he had began to stroke gentle hands up and down his back whilst pressing the odd kiss on whatever patch of skin caught his eye first, from Jaskier’s neck, to his cheek, and his bicep and every spot in between until he was relaxed in his hold.

As time passed however he felt the tension rise in the room in a little as he caught his brother’s eyes glancing to the scar on Jaskier’s back, whether the bard knew he wasn’t sure but he just stared right back at the two of them, daring his brothers to ask until finally Eskel spoke.

“Didn’t think bards got scars from their work” It was more of a fleeting thought than a question or accusation, an acknowledgment if anything that showed their interest in its origin but still gave Jaskier the choice on whether he wanted to answer or not, and for that he was grateful to his brother, at least until Lambert spoke up.

“Probably got it from some cuckolded lord or falling down the stairs” He felt Jaskier scoff and already anticipated the reaction even before he saw the challenge clear in the bard’s eyes as he stared the other witcher down.

“Drowner actually, I regret that it was such a bland and basic creature that got me first, I mean I’ve stared down a werewolf and what have I got to show for it, nothing, ugh the embarrassment” 

“And that’s the only time a monster is going to get you” He couldn’t keep up his frown as Jaskier turned back to face him, a soft look taking over his face as one of Jaskier’s thumbs stroked along his cheek, a touch he couldn’t help but lean into.

“But then who would pull your very fine ass out of some godforsaken swamp, Roach can only do so much” He couldn’t help but snort then and quickly pulled a chuckling Jaskier closer to press a quick kiss to his lips that he had intended to deepen if it weren’t for Lambert’s interruption.

“I know bards are lying little shits, but I thought they were supposed to be believable; you took on a werewolf?” He watched the younger witcher exchange glances with Eskel, who admittedly was trying to hide his doubt in the story, but it was still there all the same “Guess you best keep an eye on this one Geralt before he starts nicking your contracts and your coin”

Jaskier just rolled his eyes as he turned back to them, a more sheepish look on his face but prideful all the same “Well I more so distracted the werewolf, threw a knife into its eye whilst Geralt was fighting wolves, still haven’t heard a thank you for that by the way”

“And you won’t get one because you shouldn’t have been there” He just pinched Jaskier’s hip in response, which earned him another light slap on his chest, but he didn’t relent on the earnest gaze he had on Jaskier, intent clear that such actions wouldn’t be happening again.

Jaskier just rolled his eyes and gave the most put upon sigh he had probably ever heard from someone in the eighty something years of his life “And then I would have had to save your ass from a werewolf and drowners so I’d stop whilst I was ahead if I were you love”

Before he could respond Eskel’s chuckle broke their definitely not last discussion on the matter, the amused eyes of his brothers alighting on him with a smile curling the corner of his mouth as he spoke “You seriously let a few drowners get the better of you Geralt? You really must be getting old, maybe we should get Vesemir to make you a cane alongside your swords, wouldn’t want you to hurt your back”

He definitely didn’t pout as Lambert snorted at the remark before both of his brothers and even Jaskier feel into laughter at his predicament and if his next remark came out a tad too defensive then who could blame it when he was currently the source of their humour.

“I was fighting a kikimore and the drowners came during the fight, I got distracted worrying about his ass and they got the better of me, that’s it”

He had expected to be met with more heckling from his fellow witchers but instead was met with Jaskiers furious gaze, and try his might he couldn’t avert his gaze as the man pinned him in place, hands firm on his shoulders as if trying to force some sort of important information into him but also as if Jaskier was clinging onto him for dear life.

“That’s it? That’s it he says as if he didn’t almost fucking die” He barely felt the barely there thud of Jaskier hitting his chest for a third time but still he remained quiet and let the man say his piece “I had to haul your heavy ass to the nearest town and stayed up for two days making sure you didn’t get an infection or choke on your spit or whatever the fuck else so you didn’t die, so no it wasn’t just ‘that’s it’”

There was a pause then, all three of them unable to say anything under the fire of Jaskiers rage so instead he opted for wrapping his arms around the bards waist, and resumed pressing small kisses against his skin interspersed with muttered thank yous and apologies until a firm tug in his hair had him once again looking into blue eyes, no longer angry but soft and loving, if a little exasperated.

“I suppose a kiss will do, make it good witcher” He didn’t waste any more time as he leaned forward to bring their lips together, a gentle press at first but when he tugged at Jaskier’s bottom lip and he was allowed to explore with his tongue, their surroundings quickly faded into the background and his hands resumed their original task of tracing every inch of Jaskier’s body that he could reach until the sound of Lambert clearing his throat had them slowly pull away, small smiles on each of their faces.

“Right well I’m glad you helped Geralt and that you’ve kissed and made up but for fucks sake you have a room for a reason” He only scoffed, raising a disbelieving eyebrow at his brother whilst Jaskier took to quick kisses and the grazing of teeth along his jaw and neck, arousal clear in the room, and not just from him and Jaskier.

“Really? So I don’t hear you wanking off every night to the sound of us fucking?” It was almost comical the way Lambert physically balked at the accusation and pointedly tried to look anywhere else in the room, something Eskel found equally as funny given by his low chuckle, but he just aimed a look at the other witcher “Don’t know why you’re laughing Eskel, you’re no better”

To his credit Eskel didn’t seem all that bothered by being outed and simply shrugged his shoulders in reply whilst Lambert still refused to look at any of them. Jaskier, ever the showman simply turned away from him to face the other two witchers, a smirk on his face.

“Boys, if you wanted a show all you had to do was ask” He couldn’t help but let out a growl at the proposition as he pulled Jaskier just that bit closer against him, whilst said man just laughed at him before pulling him into another kiss that stretched on and on until even his chest began to ache for air “Don’t worry love, ‘m yours, only you get to gaze on this fine ass”

“Well I’m looking at it right now” Now composed, Lambert was reclining against the edge of the spring, openly ogling whatever part of Jaskier he could get his eyes on and gave the witcher another show of his middle finger.

With that he pulled Jaskier into another kiss, ignoring the wolf whistles from his brothers as he stood up and carried Jaskier out of the bath, their lips never leaving each other, where he put Jaskier down just long enough to dry him before the bard was grabbing his hand and dragged him away from his brothers, said brothers who only watched after him with what looked to be a mixture of morbid curiosity, acceptance and a hint of jealousy.

It was only when they reached the door of his room that Jaskier turned to face him, a far from innocent smirk on his face as the bard wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled them closer together “Now I do believe I deserve to be thoroughly ravished my love and you can tell me in explicit detail how much you appreciate my intervening”

“Don’t push it” He has to fight the small smile desperately trying to make its way on his face and he’s only half successful before he started to press small heated kisses across the bard’s neck and delighting too much in the whine he got in reply and increasing his efforts when he felt Jaskier bend his neck in an effort to give him more space to work which he eagerly began to work.

“Darling, you’re not really in the position to be denying me anything, you still owe me for that werewolf, and that bruxa, and those rotfiends outside Maribor, you remember?”

“Yes I remember” He really couldn’t help the fond smile seemingly stuck on face as Jaskier looked up at him with such pure adoration and awe that he would never get enough of it. With that he promptly leaned down to kiss Jaskier and lifted him back up before actually getting them into his room where he would definitely be ravishing said bard, after all he was weak with anything to do with Jaskier and he knew his soulmate would always get what he wanted in the end.

**********

The winter was gradually coming to an end now, with the winter snows having almost melted, signifying the end of their hibernation and their return to the continent. Whilst he felt that restless edge that came from doing relatively little over the past several months, the thought of what awaited him come spring, or better put, whom, in the form of a child surprise almost made him wish for another month of snow. 

Despite that he knew he couldn’t run from his responsibilities anymore; his brothers had driven that into him all winter and Jaskier would make sure he stuck to it. 

After that first week, when they had learned just what lengths Jaskier was willing to go to protect him the witchers had eagerly taken Jaskier under their wing, some more willing than others admittedly.

Jaskier had spent hours in the library with Vesemir poring over monster lore and alchemy books that he had learned long ago, the bard eager to learn every which way he could help his witcher whilst he’s sure Vesemir was glad to have someone to teach again, come next year he would likely have another new student. 

In return Jaskier had gifted the old witcher one of his relatively empty notebooks. It wasn’t uncommon for Vesemir to make notes on particular topics, or lists of ingredients he needed and tasks to be done as well as the odd thought that passed through his mind and Jaskiers gift would better facilitate that, in return Vesemir had given him a hug and made the bard swear he would stay safe, whilst small it was an action that showed Vesemir viewed Jaskier as one of his own and there was nothing else that Jaskier wanted than that approval.

The evenings Jaskier has spent singing or strumming his lute, something which Eskel had taken an interest in but only asked about a month into their stay. It was somewhat endearing the way that Jaskier’s eyes lit up when he recited some ancient poetry and tried to teach similes, stanzas, and alliteration, as well as a whole lot of other terms that flew over his head. He knew his brother had taken to writing his own poems and songs, but it was something he refused to share with anyone but Jaskier and it was nice to see the budding friendship between the two. 

As such Jaskier had gifted Eskel the book of poetry he always kept in his bag to travel with, a particular favourite that he claimed was to see exactly what not to do when writing his songs but no one, he’s sure not even Jaskier himself believed the lie, but Eskel had been grateful none the less and had given a token back to Jaskier, some armour, light but sturdy to fit under his clothes to better protect him if he insisted on diving into danger after Geralt.

Lambert was trickier and involved Jaskier staying up late into the night playing several games of Gwent whilst consuming copious amounts of alcohol. On the outside little had changed between the two, they still made cutting remarks at one another whenever the opportunity arose but there was a decided softness in the younger witcher when it came to Jaskier now. 

Now, it wasn’t uncommon to see Jaskier pawing over the witcher and sneak in small touches here and there, whether that was a hand on his elbow directing him elsewhere or a hand on his back to try and lean in and get a view of his card deck, it was easy to see that Lambert had allowed Jaskier in. He had even taken to teaching him to fought better, not that Jaskier didn’t already have some skill and he had definitely taught him some more, but Lambert insisted on teaching him different to fight dirty and use whatever advantage he had.

Granted Lambert seemed the only one willing to allow Jaskier to fight alongside his wolf and he could admire his brother for that as it wasn’t something he ever wanted to do, obvious bias aside.

That was how they found themselves now, Jaskier and his wolf sparring with Lambert whilst he and Eskel watched a few steps away, noted the almost in sync way Jaskier moved with his animal that had Lambert almost lose his footing, but the slip up was enough to give the wolf an advantage it eagerly took and from there things descended into chaos.

Whilst he knew he probably should help his brother he was far more content to stay there and laugh with Eskel as Lambert tried not to hurt the pair, but also tried not to get his ass kicked at the same time, an impressive feat if he could succeed.

Before he could see the outcome though he felt more than saw Eskel’s gaze on him and simply looked back at his brother and waited for him to speak whatever was on his mind. He could practically feel the war going on behind Eskel’s eyes and he knew what would be asked before it ever left the witchers mouth.

“Do you think there’s a chance, I mean it happened for you, do you think we, that I…“

The words didn’t have to be said but he knew and offered his brother a smile before resting a hand on his shoulder, eyes trained on Eskel so he could for once see the sincerity with which he spoke “Yes, I do, the Gods know you’re a hell of a lot better than me and they gave me a soulmate, you’ll find yours too”

The smile, however brief, on Eskel’s face reassured him and he gripped his brothers shoulder just a bit tighter as he felt a similar grip on his own shoulder “He’s good for you, don’t think I’ve seen you talk so much since before the trials” He just offered a grunt in reply, more so just to annoy his brother which earned him a slap on the back of his head in response, any retaliation he intended to make interrupted but Lambert’s cussing and when he turned saw that Jaskier’s wolf had a grip on his arm, the sight of which brought a smile to his face “I’m glad you’re happy, deserve it after all the shit we’ve seen on the Path”

“Thank you Eskel” They embrace then, something typically only done at the start and end of their winter at Kaer Morhen, but this was decidedly nicer and he let himself enjoy this brief moment of peace before they finally pulled away.

“Right I best go and save your bard before Lambert actually kills him” With a final pat to his shoulder Eskel left his side in favour of kicking the feet out from under Lambert, giving Jaskier an out which he eagerly took as he watched the bard all but bound over to him, his wolf trotting along easily beside him.

It was then he felt his lark join his shoulder and smiled a little as he raised a hand to stroke it, more of an acknowledgement if anything, but it gladly took the attention before burying into his hair with nothing more than a fleeting chirp whilst Jaskier all but clung onto the other side of his body.

They stayed like that for a moment and he looked ahead to watch Lambert and Eskel spar, if he concentrated he could hear Vesemir preparing dinner in the kitchen and he felt the warmth of his soulmate seep into his side and for a moment he felt calm. He let his mind wonder to the year ahead, of what awaited him and how he would handle it, but a touch to his cheek brought him out of his musings and he turned his head to see Jaskier looking at him, a frown of concern on the bard’s face.

“What’s going on in the beautiful head of yours?”

He sighed then, raising his own hand to clasp around the one Jaskier was using to stroke his cheek and pulled it down so he could press a brief kiss to his wrist before giving it a squeeze, more so for his own sake than anything else “There’s a war coming Jaskier and I think we’ll be stuck in the middle of it”

“We’ll get through it together” He was tempted to argue, to try to convince Jaskier to find safety and just stay safe if nothing else because he couldn’t stomach the thought of anything happening to him, but he was quickly stopped from voicing it “You’re not alone in this Geralt and I don’t plan on going anywhere. Besides, who else is going to pull your ass out of the fire?” He can’t help but snort then, his grip on Jaskier’s hand still firm, grateful to have the man beside him even if it was a selfish wish of him to have, one they both shared apparently “I take it you have a plan in mind”

He hummed but he could all but feel the scowl on the bard’s face, so it was with a small smile and a kiss to the back of Jaskiers hand that he elaborated “We’ll go to Cintra first, make sure she’s safe”

“And then?”

“And then whatever else there is, together” He squeezed Jaskiers hand again, no less awed by the fact that he got an answering squeeze in return and he doubted he would ever feel less surprised at the act, at the fact that he actually got to have Jaskier by his side, but he supposed he had the rest of his life to get used to it. 

“Together”

He released Jaskiers hand only so that he could wrap his arm around his waist instead and pull them even closer together as they watched the sun begin to dip below the keeps walls, Jaskier’s wolf laid down in front of them, but ever alert and his lark nuzzled up against his neck. Yes, together sounded good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's my [tumblr](https://bards-witcher.tumblr.com/)  
> Feel free to send my ideas/prompts there, whether for this au or something else and I'll be happy to give it a go, but thank you for sticking through this

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think. Honestly love these two so much and hope to write more.


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